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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%;} + +</style> + </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> <b>OLD FRITZ.</b> + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a> THE + LONELY KING. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a> WILHELMINE + ENKE. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a> FREDERICK + WILLIAM. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a> THE + DRIVE TO BERLIN. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a> THE + OATH OF FIDELITY. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a> THE + PARADE. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a> THE + MIRACULOUS ELIXIR. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. + </a> THE GOLDEN RAIN. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0009"> + CHAPTER IX. </a> GERMAN LITERATURE AND THE KING. <br /><br /> + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> + <b>BOOK II.</b></a> <b>ROSICRUCIANS AND POWERFUL GENIUSES</b> + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a> GOETHE IN + BERLIN. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a> THE + INNER AND THE MIDDLE TEMPLE. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER + XII. </a> THE JESUIT GENERAL <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </a> A PENSIONED GENERAL. + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </a> THE + KING’S LETTER. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a> HATE + AND LOVE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a> CHARLES + AUGUSTUS AND GOETHE. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. + </a> GOETHE’S VISITS. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0018"> + CHAPTER XVIII. </a> FAREWELL TO BERLIN. <br /><br /> + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> <b>BOOK III.</b> </a> <b>STORM + AND PRESSURE</b> <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </a> THE + KING AND THE AUSTRIAN DIPLOMAT. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0020"> + CHAPTER XX. </a> THE KING AND THE LOVER. <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </a> IN WEIMAR. <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. </a> THE READING. + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. </a> WITCHCRAFT + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV. </a> THE + PURSE-PROUD MAN. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV. </a> THE + ELOPEMENT. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI. </a> UNDER + THE STARRY HEAVENS. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII. + </a> THE SACRIFICE. <br /><br /> + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0033"> <b>BOOK IV.</b> </a> <b>THE + VISIBLES AND THE INVISIBLES.</b> <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0028"> + CHAPTER XXVIII. </a> OLD FRITZ. <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX. </a> CAGLIOSTRO’S RETURN. + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX. </a> THE + TRIUMVIRATE. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI. </a> FUTURE + PLANS. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII. </a> MIRACLES + AND SPIRITS. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0033"> CHAPTER XXXIII. </a> THE + RETURN HOME. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER XXXIV. </a> BEHIND + THE MASK. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0035"> CHAPTER XXXV. </a> THE + CURSE. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0036"> CHAPTER XXXVI. </a> THE + KING AND THE ROSICRUCIANS. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0037"> CHAPTER + XXXVII. </a> THE ESPOUSALS. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0038"> + CHAPTER XXXVIII. </a> 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—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—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’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. + </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: “Was it really thus? Did + it really occur in that manner?” + </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—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> + “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.) + </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 “magazine of + my fantasy.” + </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> + “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! + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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’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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + Voltaire was dying! + </p> + <p> + 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. + </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—whither? + </p> + <p> + “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: + </p> + <p> + “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.” <i>[Footnote: Posthumous works, vol. vii., p.88.]</i> + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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—of the past! + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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—the king’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—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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, your majesty,” replied the footman, “the Baron von Arnim begs + for an audience.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Your majesty, it is my duty that I—” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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. “Who + are these demoiselles, and what do they want?” asked the king. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.’” + </p> + <p> + Von Arnim could scarcely repress a smile. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “It is known, sire,” replied Von Arnim, bowing. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Your majesty,” cried the baron, amazed, “has your highness dismissed me?” + </p> + <p> + “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. <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, “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.]</i> + </p> + <p> + “Sire, I have heard all, but I cannot believe it.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Is she alone?” asked the king, rising. + </p> + <p> + “No, she is not alone; at a little distance the nurse follows with the + princely infant!” + </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. “Has your majesty any + further commands?” asked he, timidly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “What is the matter?” asked the king, in a milder tone, “why do you not + go, Kretzschmar?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a very cunning fellow, and know how to use your eyes well,” said + the king. “Now be off, and order the carriage.” + </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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Here I am, miss; I am coming.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Be quiet, Alkmene, be quiet!” cried a loud, commanding voice. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Heaven! it is the king!” whispered the young lady, turning pale, and, + as if stunned, retreated a few steps. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is really the king,” cried the nurse, “and he is coming directly + from the grass-plot here.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “What language do you permit yourself to hold?” asked the king. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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. “Go + home, Louisa, and put the child to sleep,” said she, quickly. + </p> + <p> + The nurse obeyed promptly, and when alone, the king demanded again, “Who + are you? and to whom does the child belong?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” cried the king, furiously. + </p> + <p> + “I mean, your majesty, that the prince has holy duties toward me. I am the + mother of that child!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I would try to excuse myself, did I not feel that your majesty would not + listen to me.” + </p> + <p> + “What excuse could you offer?—there is none.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I have heard that your parents sold their child to shame. Is it true?” + cried the king. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Bah! The promises of a young man of twenty-five are made without + reflection, and rarely ever fulfilled.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, by whom were you taught, and what have you learned?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I presume you have learned to jabber a little French and drum a + little music,” said the king, shrugging his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You appear to have had a very learned instructor,” remarked the king, + sneeringly. “What is his name?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose I command you to leave the prince? Suppose I will no longer + endure the scandal of this sinful relation?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “He would not dare to brave my commands!” + </p> + <p> + “He would not brave them, sire. Oh, no; it would be simply impossible to + obey them.” + </p> + <p> + “What would hinder him?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean to say, that I cannot separate you from the prince but by + force?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, your majesty,” cried she, with conscious power, “that is exactly + what I mean.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Your majesty, I—” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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: “Did you not + tell me, Schwerin, that Count Schmettau would sell his country residence + at Charlottenburg?” + </p> + <p> + “At your service, your majesty, he asked me to purchase it, or find him a + purchaser.” + </p> + <p> + “How much is it worth?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you not buy it, if the count offered it to you?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you are really too kind,” cried the equerry, in an excitement of joy; + “I do not know—” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </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’ + 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! + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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!” <i>[Footnote: The king’s words.—See + “Prussia, Frederick the Great,” vol. iii.]</i> + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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. “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Your majesty, may I come in?” asked a gentle, happy child’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. “Yes, you may enter,” + nodded the king kindly to him. “You know I sent for you, my little + flag-bearer.” + </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. “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!” + </p> + <p> + “And what if I would not have let you come in at all?” said the king, + smiling. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me see, my prince—do you think my courage could fail me upon + any occasion?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “How about the geography and universal history?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I wished to show it to your majesty, it is so beautiful, and then beg + you to let me play a little.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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!’” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I will remember that, and I thank you for the kind instruction.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Sire, it is true; I cannot deny it—I did behave badly,” sighed the + little prince. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “That was really unfortunate,” said the king, sympathizingly. + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you hesitate?” asked the king, looking tenderly at the frank, + glowing face of the boy. “What happened?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “That was excessively rude, my little flag-bearer,” 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’s face, and the affectionate look + with which he regarded the youthful sinner. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know that you deserve to be imprisoned fourteen days, and live on + bread and water, for insubordination?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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. <i>[Footnote: The little prince’s own words.—See + “Diary of Prince Frederick William,” 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The little prince sprang toward the door, but suddenly stopped, + embarrassed. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter?” asked the king. “Why do you not call your tutor?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but if you will play before me, you must get the plaything which you + say is in his pocket.” + </p> + <p> + “Sire, then I had rather not play,” cried the prince. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “Approach!” 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> + “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. + </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> + “I believe it is three years since you commenced teaching the little + prince?” said the king. + </p> + <p> + “At your service, your majesty, since 1775.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” 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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” <i>[Footnote: + The king’s own words—See “Confidential Letters.”]</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, “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Herr Behnisch bowed, backing out toward the door. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “Your majesty,” stammered Herr Behnisch, with tears in his eyes, “I—” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Here it is, your majesty,” shouted the prince, as he held up triumphantly + the battledoor and shuttlecock high in the air. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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—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.” + </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> + “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—” + </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> + “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.” + </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> + “The officers who dine with the prince shall tease and annoy him, that he + may become confident.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” <i>[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.”]</i> + </p> + <p> + “My dear lord and king,” began the prince again, “I beg you will have the + goodness to give me my shuttlecock.” + </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. “Your + majesty,” cried he, with a menacing tone, “will you give me my ball or + not?” + </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’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. + </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’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—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. + </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. “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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’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. + </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’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> + “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!” + </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—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. <i>[Footnote: “Memoirs of the Countess + Lichtenau,” 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’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> + “It was from pure affinity, from gratitude and affection, that I followed + the husband of my heart, although he was a prince,” 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> + “Go! and let me never see you again!” + </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—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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </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’s anger. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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. “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!” + </p> + <p> + The servant did not dare to oppose her mistress, or contradict the orders, + but hastened to obey them. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </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’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!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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, <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 + ‘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.]</i> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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> + “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.” + </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. “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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “But you must eat something, mamselle; you must have some supper!” + </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—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? + </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> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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—to read his + face, pale with rage. “I must bear it,” he cried, beating his forehead. “I + cannot protect those that I love!” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you have hidden yourself from me?” cried the prince, encircling her + in his arms, and pressing her to his heart. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But you see my heart revealed you to me, and I am here,” said the prince, + smiling. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What is that, Wilhelmine?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Jealousy, again jealous!” the prince sighed. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no,” said she, tenderly, “I only repeat what is daily written me.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And do you believe, Wilhelmine, that I could ever abandon or forsake you? + Is it not the same with me?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You confess loving another?” said Wilhelmine, sorrowfully. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it then true, do you go with the king to the field?” groaned + Wilhelmine. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </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: “Read it here, in the presence of God and ourselves.” + </p> + <p> + 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.’” <i>[Footnote: + “Memoires of the Countess Lichtenau.” p. 120.]</i> + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But will you make me no return, Wilhelmine? Will you not swear to me, as + I have sworn to you?” + </p> + <p> + She took the knife from the table without answering, and pointing it to + her left arm— + </p> + <p> + “Oh, not there!” cried the prince, as he sought to stay her hand. “Do not + injure your beautiful arm, it would be a sacrilege.” + </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.—See “Memoires of the Countess + Lichtenau.”]</i> + </p> + <p> + “Oh, what have you done?” cried the prince, terrified; “You are wounded!” + </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. “A physician! Send + quickly for a physician,” cried he. “Where are my servants?” + </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. “Dearest, it is + nothing,” she cried. “I have only prepared a great inkstand—let me + write!” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “Here I am!” answered the porter. “Who calls me? And what is the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “Open the door,” commanded the voice again. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you belong to the house?” asked the night-watch. “I dare let no one in + who does not belong there.” + </p> + <p> + “Lift up your lantern, and look at my livery. It is at the king’s order!” + </p> + <p> + Wilhelmine withdrew from the window, and hastened to the prince, who had + retired to the back part of the room. + </p> + <p> + “It is Kretzschmar, the king’s footman and spy,” she whispered. “Hide + yourself, that he does not discover you. Go there to the children.” + </p> + <p> + “No, Wilhelmine, I will remain here. I—” + </p> + <p> + Wilhelmine pressed her hand upon his mouth, and forced him into the + side-room, bolting the door. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + She took the light, and hastened into the anteroom, which was resounding + with the loud ringing. + </p> + <p> + “Who is there?” she cried. “Who rings so late at night?” + </p> + <p> + “In the name of the king, open!” + </p> + <p> + Wilhelmine shoved back the bolt, opening the door. + </p> + <p> + “Come in,” she said, “and tell me who you are.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Did his majesty send you here to say this to me?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “What will you give me for trinkgeld, Mamselle Enke?” asked the footman, + as she gave him the receipt. + </p> + <p> + “Your own rudeness and insult,” answered Wilhelmine proudly, as she + turned, without saluting him, to the sitting-room. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “‘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.’” + </p> + <p> + A long silence followed the reading of this letter. Both looked down, + thoughtfully recalling the contents. + </p> + <p> + “A prisoner,” murmured Wilhelmine, “a prisoner in my own house.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “He will announce to you my imprisonment, my exile,” sighed Wilhelmine. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Must you leave me a prisoner? Oh, how hard and cruel life is!” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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—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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is just his misfortune that he is the king’s brother,” 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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe you are right,” cried the youngest of the two gentlemen, + laughing. “I believe myself it is the Apollo-Belvedere.” + </p> + <p> + “Be still, my dear sir, hush, and preserve our incognito,” interrupted his + companion. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I pray, sir, grant my request, and respect our incognito,” begged the + other, gently but firmly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Pray tell me, sir, do you think Prince Henry a great man?” + </p> + <p> + “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?’” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And you, sir, do you regard him so?” cried Herr Wolff. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean that the Prince of Prussia will usher in a brighter day for + Germany?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” answered the other. “I believe that day expires with Frederick the + Great, and that a long night of darkness will succeed.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you think so?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Who will take care?” + </p> + <p> + “Those who are the enemies of light, civilization, and freedom.” + </p> + <p> + “Who are they?” asked Herr Wolff. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it is easy to perceive that you do not belong to them, or you would + not thus characterize them, and—” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </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: “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Because the servant is a little man,” cried Herr Wolff, “and every one + looks little to his belittling eyes.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I pray you to visit me; my name is Moritz. I live in Kloster Strasse, + near the gray convent.” + </p> + <p> + “Your name is Moritz?”, asked Herr Wolff, earnestly. “Then you are the + author of the ‘Journey to England?’” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the same, and my highest encomium is, that the work is not unknown + to you, or the name of the author.” + </p> + <p> + “All Germany knows it, and do you think I could possibly remain a stranger + to it?” + </p> + <p> + “But your name, sir,” said the stranger, with anxious curiosity. “Will you + not give me your name?” + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you when we are in your own room,” said Herr Wolff, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Woe to him!” 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. “Look at him attentively, my son,” said he, “that + is our future and our hope in this country.” + </p> + <p> + The Hercules turned hastily, with a look of astonishment, to the Italian. + “The Prince of Prussia?” asked he, with amazement. + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, master, I am only surprised that you hope for good from this + lost-in-sin successor to the throne.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Mary Stuart!” cried the other, vehemently. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + They departed arm in arm, withdrawing from the crowd, and taking the broad + walk which crossed to the park. + </p> + <p> + “You were about to relate to me the answer which Mary Stuart gave to you, + sir,” said the Hercules, timidly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “It was in the year 1587,” said he, as the Italian ceased; “almost two + hundred years since, and you were present?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Teach me so to live, master; I thirst for knowledge,” cried his + companion, fervently. + </p> + <p> + “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.“<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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Prince Frederick William of Prussia,” answered Herr von Bischofswerder, + humbly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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> + “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.” + </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. “He has soared away,” he murmured, softly. “I + shall see him again, and he will consecrate me—the consecration of + immortals!” + </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, “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.” + </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: “Well, Alkmene, well Diana, let us + see who will be the lady of honor to-day.” + </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. “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” <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> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Did the princess ever punish you again?” asked Kretzchmar, with a bold, + spying look. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “Now relate to me, Kretzschmar, how your expedition succeeded. Did you go + to Berlin to see Mademoiselle Enke last night?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, your majesty, I was there, and have brought you the writing.” + </p> + <p> + “Was she alone?” asked the king, bending over to caress Alkmene, who lay + at his feet. + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “At your service, your majesty, I could see no one; I would only add that + the unknown may have been at Mademoiselle Enke’s.” + </p> + <p> + “And he may not have been,” cried the king, harshly. “What else did you + learn?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing at all worth speaking about. Only one thing I must say, the + lackey Schultz is a prattling fool, and speaks very disrespectfully.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he talk with you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, your majesty, with me.” + </p> + <p> + “Then he knows well that it would be welcome. What did he say?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, your majesty, I thought I must relate all that I hear of + importance.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no money to pay them, your majesty,” sighed Kretzschmar. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! your majesty, it is too little; twenty-five guldens would not pay + my debts.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + The footman Schultz appeared to announce the equerry Von Schwerin. + </p> + <p> + “Bid him enter,” nodded the king. + </p> + <p> + Von Schwerin entered, with a smiling face. “Have you accomplished what I + confided to you?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Will Count Schmettau give up the villa at once?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know the name?” asked the king. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What for?” asked the king, staring at Von Schwerin, quite surprised; “you + cannot suppose that I have purchased the villa for you?” + </p> + <p> + Herr von Schwerin smilingly nodded. “I think so, your majesty.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + The equerry glided away with sorrowful mien to Von Herzberg, and + communicated the king’s commands to him. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Arrange it as you will,” answered the equerry, fretfully; “I have nothing + more to do with the affair—it lies in your hands.” + </p> + <p> + “But where are you going in such haste?” said Herzberg, as the equerry + bowed hastily, and strode through the room toward the door. + </p> + <p> + “His majesty commanded me to go upon the terrace,” he replied, morosely. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </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> + “I will endeavor, sire, to follow the elevated sentiments of your majesty, + that I may not dishonor my great teacher.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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. “He has at least + courage,” he said to himself; “he is no sybarite to quail before the rough + life of war.” + </p> + <p> + “Will your majesty so greatly favor me as to accord me an independent + position in the campaign?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Your majesty, I—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Your majesty cannot believe that of himself. The sage of Sans-Souci is + the type, the master, and teacher of all Europe.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sire, it will be impossible for me to go to the field with a quiet + conscience upon this point.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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!” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I pray you, my dear excellency, to explain it,” cried the prince, + impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “The names can be quickly written; but, your excellency,” cried the + prince, “where will the money come from?” + </p> + <p> + “I have just given your royal highness the key to the little box: have the + goodness to press hard upon the rosette.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” <i>[Footnote: “Memoirs of the Countess + Lichtenau,” vol.1]</i> 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “For this I must thank him—he must listen to me!” cried the prince. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I shall drive at once to the villa. I am curious to learn what Von + Kircheisen has told her.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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> + “Wilhelmine—Wilhelmine!” cried the prince. + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “I also,” said the prince, smiling. “Have the goodness to lead me to one + of the rooms, that I may set down this box.” + </p> + <p> + “What does that hobgoblin contain, that it prevents your embracing me?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Those were harsh, cruel words,” sighed Frederick William. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “A beautiful picture, and, that it may be a reality, I will play the role + of Jupiter and open the box.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us hope that fate will not deal so harshly with the prince, or bring + such sorrow upon your majesty.” + </p> + <p> + “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. <i>[Footnote: + The king’s words.—“Posthumous Works,” 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?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing worth recounting, sire, except that the young Duke of Weimar is + in town.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is the weather-maker?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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—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.]</i> + </p> + <p> + “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.’” + </p> + <p> + “I know nothing of them,” said the king, with indifference. “I have never + heard of your Lessing.” + </p> + <p> + “Your majesty, this wonderful comedy, ‘Minna von Barnhelm,’ was written + for your majesty’s glorification.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But, sire, you have never deigned to become acquainted with ‘Minna von + Barnhelm’ nor ‘Emilia Calotti.’” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” <i>[Footnote: + The king’s words—see “Posthumous Works,” 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> + “Now, is it not true that you are again contented?” said the king, + graciously. + </p> + <p> + “I am delighted with the prophecy for the German language, your majesty; + and may I add something?” + </p> + <p> + “It will weigh on your heart if you do not tell it,” said the king. + </p> + <p> + “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.’” + </p> + <p> + “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.” <i>[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.”]</i> + </p> + <p> + “But, sire, Herr Goethe has not only written ‘Stella,’ but ‘Clavigo’ also, + which—” + </p> + <p> + “Which he has copied exactly from the ‘Memoires de Beaumarchais,’” + interrupted the king. “That is not a German, but a French production.” + </p> + <p> + “Allow me to cite a genuine German production, which Johann Wolfgang + Goethe has written. I mean the drama ‘Gotz von Berlichingen.’” + </p> + <p> + “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. <i>[Footnote: The king’s own words.—See + “Posthumous Works,” 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.” + </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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </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> + “Oh! I see what it is,” said Frederick, shrugging his shoulders; “you are + drunk again, as you often are, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Your majesty,” cried Schultz, amazed, “I drunk!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But, your majesty, I do not know what I have done,” cried Schultz, + whiningly. “I really am not drunk. I—” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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. “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.” + </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. “From his royal + highness Prince Henry,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “Who brought it?” + </p> + <p> + “The gentleman who speaks with the castellan upon the terrace. I wait your + majesty’s commands.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </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—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. + </p> + <p> + “I wish that I could often prepare such happiness for you, dearest, for my + heart is twice gladdened to see your beaming face.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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. “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!” + </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—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—” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Who are you?” she cried, amazed. “How dare you enter here?” + </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> + “Do you recognize me, Wilhelmine?” he asked, in a sweet, melodious voice. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she answered, her eyes still fixed upon him. “You are Cagliostro, + the great ruler and magician.” + </p> + <p> + “Where did we meet?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Was that all?” said Cagliostro, solemnly, “that the crystal showed you.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I am, master!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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. “To-morrow—to-morrow, + at midnight!” 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> + “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. + </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—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. “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.” + </p> + <p> + A loud knocking at the door interrupted this soliloquy, and the door + opened at the commanding “Come in!” + </p> + <p> + “It is he, it is Apollo,” cried Moritz, joyfully. “Come in, sir, come in—I + have awaited you with the most ardent desire.” + </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. “Pardon me, I disturb you, sir; you were about to + make your toilet. Permit me to return after you have dressed.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” cried the other, laughing, “then benevolent Nature should adapt her + climate accordingly, and relieve her dear creatures from the inclination + to take cold.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.’” + </p> + <p> + “And will you not be kind enough to tell me what response the poet made to + your amiable letter?” + </p> + <p> + “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. <i>[Footnote: “Goethe in Berlin,”—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!” + </p> + <p> + “What did he write to you at the same time?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing—why should he? Was not the book sufficient answer?” + </p> + <p> + “Did he write nothing? Permit me to say to you that Goethe behaved like a + brute and an ass to you!” + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” cried Moritz, angrily, “I forbid you to speak of my favorite in so + unbecoming a manner in my room!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </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’s lap. + </p> + <p> + Goethe laughed aloud. “What are you doing, dear Moritz? What does this + mean?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “If that is the case, then I will join you,” 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 “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.]</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> + “You are not going into the street, sir! You forget that your hair is + flying about as if unloosed by a divine madness.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir, people are quite accustomed to see me in a strange costume, and the + most of them think me crazy.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Moritz, if you leave me for that, I will run away, and you will + trouble yourself in vain.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </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’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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “No one can help me,” sighed Moritz, shaking his head mournfully. “I am + lost, irremediably lost!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!’” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “No, you cannot,” murmured Moritz. + </p> + <p> + “At least confide your grief to me; that is an alleviation.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “He returned it to you,” interrupted Goethe, kindly. + </p> + <p> + “No, he offered me board, lodging, and clothing, during my course at the + Gymnasium.” + </p> + <p> + “That was well,” cried Goethe. “Tell me the name of this honorable man, + that I may meet him and extend to him my hand.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “That meant that you should be his servant!” cried Goethe, indignant. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I will surely go,” answered Moritz, deeply moved, and pressing + heartily Goethe’s offered hand. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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—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. + </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—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!” + </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’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. + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </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. “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!” + </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. “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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: “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.” + <i>[Footnote: So run the very words in the laws of the Rosicrucians.—See + “New General German Library,” vol. lvi., p. 10.]</i> + </p> + <p> + “We swear it!” cried solemn voices on all sides. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “We swear it!” again resounded in solemn chorus. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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—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. <i>[Footnote: The wording of + the laws of the Order of the Rosicrucians.—See “New General German + Library,” 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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “We swear it! We swear hate, persecution, and eternal enmity, to the Order + of the Illuminati!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “We swear it!” + </p> + <p> + “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!’” + </p> + <p> + “Curses and persecution for the devil’s offspring, the Illuminati, we + swear!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I will seek further,” answered Wilhelmine, firmly. + </p> + <p> + “You wish to enter the sixth grade, and learn the secrets of Nature?” + </p> + <p> + “I do!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “I swear it!” + </p> + <p> + “Then, listen!” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </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—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!” + </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, “He comes, the chosen one! The Great Kophta + comes!” + </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. “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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. “Thou art called, thou art chosen,” he said. “Mount to the + tabernacle, and lift the veil.” + </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. “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I will follow them faithfully,” humbly answered Bischofswerder. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I will do every thing,” cried Bischofswerder, fervently; “only make known + to me their commands.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “When will you return, master?” asked Bisehofswerder, enthusiastically. + </p> + <p> + Cagliostro smiled. “Before the crown prince of Prussia becomes king. Ask + no further. Be faithful!” + </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: “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Have we now much money? Was the tribute richly paid?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, we have a hundred louis d’ors and a diamond ring from the mistress + of this house.” + </p> + <p> + “Give it to me,” cried Lorenza. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Was I not astonishingly like her? Was it not almost unmistakable?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, wonderfully deceptive. I shuddered myself as I saw the dagger + pointed at your bosom.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + Slowly turning toward Cagliostro, he harshly demanded, “Whose servant are + you?” + </p> + <p> + “The servant of the Invisible Rulers and Fathers,” he humbly answered. + </p> + <p> + “Who are the Invisible Fathers?” + </p> + <p> + “The four ambassadors of the great general of the exiles.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “General of the Jesuits,” he answered respectfully, bowing lower. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know the sign by which he may be recognized?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, by a ring with the likeness of the founder of the order, the holy + Ignatius Loyola.” + </p> + <p> + “Then look, and recognize me,” cried the mask, extending his hand to + Cagliostro. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + With a cold, reserved manner he answered, “I am he, and am come here to + give you my commands by word of mouth.” + </p> + <p> + “Command me; I am thy humble servant, and but a weak tool in thy hands.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “When and where did we last meet?” demanded the mask. + </p> + <p> + “In 1773, at Rome.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Was the accusation well founded? Had you committed the crime you were + accused of?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” answered Cagliostro, in a low voice, “I was guilty.” + </p> + <p> + “For whom, by whose authority?” + </p> + <p> + “For the pious fathers, who commanded me, and whose pretensions to the + possessions of the Duc Costa Rica were clearly proved by those documents.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “It is so, master.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I could in an instant, among thousands.” + </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. “Do you recognize me?” + </p> + <p> + “No!” sadly answered Cagliostro, “it is not the same face.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What shall it be? Speak, O master; command, and I obey!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Never will I turn traitor,” cried Cagliostro, holding up his hands as if + taking an oath. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + Shuddering, Cagliostro repeated, “I swear it!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I swear it.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I kiss the ring of the immortal Ignatius Loyola, and swear eternal + fidelity, constant obedience, and firm love, until death.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “A half million!” cried Cagliostro, almost terrified. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </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> + “Yes, holy father, I have heard all,” she said, with a sweet, flute-like + voice. “My heart is filled with gratitude and emotion.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I swear that this shall be my holiest endeavor,” cried Lorenza, rising. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “I swear,” solemnly cried Lorenza. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Bless me also, lord and master,” cried Cagliostro, kneeling upon the + lowest step to the throne. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he is gone,” repeated Lorenza, springing from the couch. “Is it + true, has he given you half a million?” + </p> + <p> + Cagliostro held up with triumphant air the letters. “See, these addresses + are upon the first banking-houses in Rome, Paris, London, and Berlin!” + </p> + <p> + “Do you believe that they are genuine?” + </p> + <p> + “I am convinced of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Then we have attained our aim; we are rich and powerful.” + </p> + <p> + “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.’” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + She folded the paper, joy beaming in her eyes. “Granted! every thing + granted!” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Clotilda, love usurped reason,” soothingly replied the general; + “love is your excuse.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” cried Madame von Werrig. “Love is never an excuse; it is + folly.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “At the beginning, I played from passion; afterward, I only played to win + back what I had lost.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I did not say unfortunately; I said ‘Heaven be praised, the gout had put + an end to your fickle life.’” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “We will soon receive from our son-in-law a yearly pension, which will be + paid to me, and I shall spend it.” + </p> + <p> + The general sighed. “In that case I fear that I shall not get much of it.” + </p> + <p> + “At any rate, more than I have ever received from your pension.” + </p> + <p> + “There is but one thing wanting,” replied the general, evasively, “Marie’s + consent.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + The general remarked, timidly, shrugging his shoulders, “Marie had a very + decided character, and—” + </p> + <p> + “What do you hesitate to speak out for? What—and—” + </p> + <p> + “I think she still loves the Conrector Moritz.” + </p> + <p> + A second laugh, somewhat menacing, sounded like a challenge. “The + schoolmaster!” she cried, contemptuously. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “How could I suppose my daughter was so degenerated as to love a common + schoolmaster, and wish to marry him?” + </p> + <p> + “It is truly unheard of, and it would make any one angry, my dear wife, + for she insists upon loving him.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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. “Go to my daughter, and tell + her to come down immediately!” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “I order you to tell Fraulein to come down at once; we have something + important to tell her. No contradiction! go, Trude!” + </p> + <p> + The servant understood the cold, commanding tone of the mother, and dared + not disobey. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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! + </p> + <p> + “Now, old one,” said she, kindly, “what do you wish? Did you forget that I + wanted to work undisturbed to-day?” + </p> + <p> + “Didn’t forget it, my Fraulein, but—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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. “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Something very important!” repeated Marie, laying aside her work. “Do you + know what it is?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “Marie, are you not coming?” called the mother, with a commanding voice. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Marie stood as if rooted to the spot, her face flushed, and in breathless + expectation looking back to old Trude. + </p> + <p> + “Speak, Trude,” she softly murmured. + </p> + <p> + “Marie, I saw him to-day, an hour ago!” + </p> + <p> + “Where, Trude, where did you see him?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What did he say? Quick! what did he say?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “To-day? and you have just told me of it!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “He will stand by me—yes, he will—” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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’S LETTER. + </h2> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Marie noiselessly brought a cane-chair, and seated herself by the table, + opposite her parents. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly, mother; I will listen without interrupting you, according to + your command.” + </p> + <p> + “This communication is naturally addressed to your father, as I wrote to + the king in his name.” + </p> + <p> + “I did not know that you had written to his majesty at all, dear mother.” + </p> + <p> + 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—‘” + </p> + <p> + Marie uttered a cry of horror, and sprang from her seat. “Mother!—” + </p> + <p> + “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.’ + </p> + <p> + “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.’” + </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. “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, mother, I said so; I cannot and will not write it,” replied Marie, + gently. + </p> + <p> + “And why cannot you, and will you not write it?” said her mother, + scornfully. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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. “Why can you not be the wife of the man we have chosen for + you? Answer me, WHY you cannot?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” cried the general, shaking his fist at his daughter. + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” cried the mother, with a cold, icy glance, void of pity or + anger. + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “Shameless, obstinate creature, have we not forbidden it?” cried her + father. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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!” + </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. “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—” + </p> + <p> + “Herr Conrector Moritz!” 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> + “Herr Conrector Moritz wishes to pay his respects,” called out Trude + again. + </p> + <p> + “We do not wish to receive him,” cried Frau von Werrig. + </p> + <p> + “He dare not presume to enter!” shrieked the general. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </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. + “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.” + </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’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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “You are pale and thin, my beloved!” + </p> + <p> + “Sorrow for you is consuming me, Marie, but, thank Heaven, you are + unchanged, and beautiful as ever!” + </p> + <p> + “Hope and love have consoled and strengthened me, Philip.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I will not permit it. We have nothing to do with each other. Out of + my sight!—Away!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Do it, mother, and I will say no before all the world.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “But God will hear her, Frau von Werrig, and He will take vengeance on the + cruel, heartless mother.” + </p> + <p> + “I will await this vengeance,” she sneered. “It does not concern you, and + you need not trouble yourself about it. Leave the house!” + </p> + <p> + “I came here to speak with you, and I will not go away until you have + listened to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I will leave, for I will not hear you, and I command you to follow + me, Marie!” + </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> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Philip!” said Marie, clasping his arms, “you see it will all be in + vain.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I also implore you,” cried Marie, sinking down beside Moritz, “give to me + this man, whom I love and honor, for my husband.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </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’s heart. “Have you + finished? Have you any thing more to say?” she asked, in her most + unsympathizing manner. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing more with our lips, but our hearts still implore you.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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. + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “I receive your oath, and God has heard it also!” said Moritz, solemnly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “We will, perhaps, find means to delay the marriage,” said Moritz proudly, + “or, much more, prevent the marriage ceremony.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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. “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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—still hand in hand. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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’s rage turned against Trude, who + stared as if to challenge her. “What do you want? How dare you enter + uncalled?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought you were calling deaf old Trude, or why did you scream so?” + replied Trude, tartly. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps it was the general. Ah! there lies the poor, dear old man, + groaning and crying, and nobody has any pity for him.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Marie looked her friendly thanks, and quietly and quickly left the room. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “You acknowledge that you locked the door intentionally?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do not go, Trude, for mercy’s sake, for then I have no one to help + me,” cried the general. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Immediately, you deceitful creature!” + </p> + <p> + “Immediately! but Frau von Werrig will be so good as to give me my wages.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she answered in a slower and more subdued voice. “That shall be + done presently.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I believe that was the agreement.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Not so quickly,” said she, proudly. “We will reckon together how much you + have saved—because—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” interrupted Trude, “how good you are to make me keep so much; you + are my savings bank, where I can deposit my money.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Your grace will allow me to stay until Herr Ebenstreit is married, and, + in your name, pays me my wages?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I will do all I can to get it. Can I remain here until Marie is married?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you have my permission for that.” + </p> + <p> + “I thank you, Frau von Werrig. Now, general, I will bring you some warm + coverings right away.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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! “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!” <i>[Footnote: + From Klinger’s tragedy “Sturm und Drang.”]</i> + </p> + <p> + “Bravo! bravo!” laughed the duke. “Is that Klinger, or who is it that + refreshes himself in hurly-burly?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” <i>[Footnote: + From Klinger’s tragedy “Sturm und Drang.”]</i> + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Is there nothing else you sigh for but the summer-house at Weimar?” + </p> + <p> + “No!” cried Goethe, and an indescribable expression of rapture and delight + was manifest in his whole manner. + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “A beautiful picture,” cried Goethe, joyfully—“a picture that would + inspire me to indite a poem.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you poets, you poets,” sighed the duke, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “A streak of madness in you all, though I will grant that it is divine.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + “Correspondence of the Grand Duke Carl August and Goethe,” part, i., p. 4.]</i> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you agree with me, that this magnificently vile Berlin does not + enchain you in her magic net?” + </p> + <p> + “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.“<i>[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.]</i> + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.“<i>[Footnote: + Goethe’s own words.—See Goethe’s “Correspondence with Frau von + Stein,” part i., p. 169.]</i> + </p> + <p> + “Then you are ready to depart, Wolf?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII. GOETHE’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 “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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. “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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.’” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, ah!” shouted Chodowiecki, “you acknowledge the likeness?” + </p> + <p> + “I do acknowledge it, with joy.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” <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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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’s words—See G. H. Lewes’s “Goethe’s Life and Writings,” 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.” + </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. “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.” + </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, ‘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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Frau Karschin, I promise you, upon the word of honor of a German youth, + who can never lower himself to break his word.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well! then I will write.” + </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. “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.’” + </pre> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it Goethe?” she cried, clasping her hands in astonishment. “The poet + Johann Wolfgang Goethe, the renowned author of the work which—” + </p> + <p> + “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.’” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “The great king is still the same, then? He will never know anything of + German literature?” + </p> + <p> + “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.’” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And in this way you led a very poetical marriage?” smiled Goethe. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You have spoken with him, then, yourself?” asked Goethe. + </p> + <p> + “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.” <i>[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.]</i> + </p> + <p> + “And did he not fulfil his promise?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it really true, upon your supplication—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Really,” cried Goethe, laughing, “the king is an ingenious and + extraordinary man in every thing, and no one is like him.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “If it was small, yet for building-money he would send you at least two + hundred thalers.” + </p> + <p> + The poetess burst into a scornful laugh. “He sent me three thalers! The + great Frederick sent me three thalers to build a house!” + </p> + <p> + “What did you do? Did you take them?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “‘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.’” <i>[Footnote: See “Life and Poems of Louisa + Karschin,” edited by her daughter.]</i> + </p> + <p> + “Why do you not laugh?” said Frau Karschin, raising her flashing eyes to + Goethe, who sat looking down earnestly and quietly before her. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “You saw him, then? Has he written something for you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I saw him, and he granted my request.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Just as I asked you,” laughed Karschin. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Read them now, quickly.” + </p> + <p> + “‘He who slanders and listens to slander, let him be punished. She may be + hung by the tongue, and he by the ears.’” <i>[Footnote: This scene took + place literally, and may be found in “Celebrated German Authors,” vol. + II., p. 340.]</i> + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </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 “gates + of wisdom” 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. “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—” + </p> + <p> + “Herr Goethe is waiting—shall he enter?” asked the servant. + </p> + <p> + The philosopher raised his head. “No,” cried he, loudly. “No! tell him you + were mistaken. I am not at home.” + </p> + <p> + The old servant looked quite frightened at his master—the first time + he had heard an untruth from him. “What shall I say, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Say no,” cried Moses, very excited and ill-humored. “Say that I am not at + home—that I am out.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” <i>[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.]</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> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “They shall live—live—live,’’ shouted the duke! + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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’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> + “Heaven be praised, Wolf,” said the duke, “the must has once more + fermented, and sprung a few of the hoops of dignity?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you not set off, Wolf?” asked the duke, springing up. “Have you had + sufficient of the Berliners?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” <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’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.]</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’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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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.—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.” + </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. “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. <i>[Footnote: The king’s words.—See “Prussia, + Frederick the Great,” 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Is your majesty also inclined to peace?” asked Herzberg. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Will your majesty be so gracious as to inform me what steps I may take, + and upon what conditions?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “He will certainly do honor to the heroic race of Hohenzollern,” answered + Herzberg, bowing. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Your majesty, I can assure you—” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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!’” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +“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!’ +</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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” <i>[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> + </p> + <p> + “I shall be most happy to be the instrument to make known this generous + expression of your majesty’s good-will,” remarked Herzberg, bowing. + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” <i>[Footnote: The + king’s own words.—See “Posthumous Works,” vol. xv.]</i> + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it? I am very curious about a petition from you, it is so seldom + that you proffer one.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Sire, dare I ask still more? I would beg your majesty to grant this young + man an audience at once.” + </p> + <p> + “How, at once! Is this phoenix here, who so interests my Minister + Herzberg? Where is he from, and what does he wish?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “It is true,” said the king, “it was a false suspicion. You invited him + into your carriage, did you not?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “An original, a truly original genius,” cried the king. + </p> + <p> + “He is so indeed, and is so called by all his friends.” + </p> + <p> + “Has he any friends?” asked the king, with an incredulous smile. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Herzberg, you are charmed, and speak of this man as a young girl in + love!” + </p> + <p> + “Sire, if I were a young girl, I should certainly fall in love with this + Moritz, for he is handsome.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.’” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed it is an original,” the king murmured to himself. “Do you know + what the man wants?” he asked aloud. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is your protege?” + </p> + <p> + “He stands outside, and it is my humble request that your majesty will + grant him an audience, and permit me to call him.” + </p> + <p> + “It is granted, and—” + </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> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Sire,” answered Thugut, laconically, “I have driven day and night, and + have received my instructions directly from the empress.” + </p> + <p> + The king slowly shook his head, and an imperceptible smile played around + his lips. + </p> + <p> + “Does the young emperor approve of these instructions?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + Just then the door opened and Herzberg returned. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Also your majesty’s Polish subjects, as may be expected,” added Baron von + Thugut. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “No, baron,” answered the king quickly, “the more minute details give to + my minister; I wish only the contents in brief.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Sire, upon conditions only which are sufficient for the honor, the + wishes, and necessities of my lofty mistress.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “How, then! will your majesty break up here?” cried Thugut, with evident + surprise. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Had your majesty the grace to be convinced of my return?” asked Thugut. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “Had your majesty the grace to call me?” asked Thugut, hastily turning. + </p> + <p> + “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.” <i>[Footnote: + Historical. The king’s words.—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> + “A sly fox,” said he, smiling, “but I will prove to him that we understand + fox-hunting, and are not deceived by cunning feints.” + </p> + <p> + “Will your majesty really break up to-day?” asked Von Herzberg, upon + returning. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Sire, will you not receive my protege, Conrector Moritz?” + </p> + <p> + “Did you not say that he begged for a secret audience?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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. “Are you the translator of the chapters + from Tacitus, which my Minister Herzberg handed me?” asked the king, after + a pause. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sire,” gently answered Moritz. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Sire,” answered Moritz, “Martin Luther, in his translation of the Bible + three hundred years since, employed hundreds of beautiful, expressive + formations.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “It is true, sire.” + </p> + <p> + “Why did you travel in that manner?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Sire, by not granting a title to a certain person, or if it must be + granted, annul the conditions attendant upon it.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not understand you,” answered the king, harshly. “Speak not in + riddles. What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that all?” asked the king, with a searching glance. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” answered Moritz, proudly raising his head; “no, I am poor.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know that Fraulein von Leuthen is poor? Her father is worse off + than Job, for he is in debt.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “How much salary do you receive as teacher?” + </p> + <p> + “Majesty, as conrector of the college attached to the Gray Monastery, + three hundred and fifty dollars.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you expect to live upon that yourself, and support a family besides?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Sire,” answered Moritz, with a cry of anguish, “it is no dream, but a + reality!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “Sire, I swear to you that you mistake this dear, noble-hearted young + girl, you—” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot think so, sire.” + </p> + <p> + “I am convinced of it. Farewell.” + </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. “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—” + </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—“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. + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + At this instant a flash of lightning, followed by heavy-rolling thunder, + was heard. + </p> + <p> + “Hear, Wolf—only hear!” laughed Charles—“God in heaven + responds, and confirms your statement.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </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> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed it does,” said Goethe, joining him; “a very merry company they are + too, singing gayly. Now, grant the rain rain has ceased—” + </p> + <p> + “Charlotte von Stein is at Weimar,” interrupted the duke. “Give me your + arm, and we will walk on.” + </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’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?” + </p> + <p> + “The Duchess Amelia!” cried Goethe, astonished. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “May I be permitted to ask where you come from?” asked the duke. “And the + dress, of what order do you wear?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, Goechhausen—hush, sweet Philomel,” interrupted the duke, “or + the Delphic riddle of this costume will be apparent.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” <i>[Footnote: True anecdote.—See Lewes’ “Goethe’s + Life and Writings,” vol. 1., p. 406.]</i> + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Our treasurer Bertuch, Count Werther, and Baron von Einsiedel also.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I believe so, they say so,” answered the count, rather absent-minded. “I + have not seen her for some days.” + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter?” asked the duke, as Goethe was engaged in a lively + conversation with the duchess. “Is the dear countess dangerously ill?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I was not thinking of that,” said the baron, astonished. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I have not forgotten it; I have brought my Thusnelda a souvenir—such + a gift!” + </p> + <p> + “What is it, your highness?” + </p> + <p> + “A surprise which, if Thusnelda is clever, she must think about all night.—But, + Goethe, is it not time to leave the ladies?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “I wish we were there, my dearest friend,” sighed Goethe. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “With pleasure, duke.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “He is silent as the grave, duke.” + </p> + <p> + “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: + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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, “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. + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </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, “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.” + </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—today + glowing as sunrise. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.’” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “Goethe, I beg you to loosen your hold; you hurt my arms.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + He threw her arms from him, with tears in his eyes. Charlotte von Stein + regarded him with anger and indifference. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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. “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.” <i>[Footnote: + Goethe’s words.—See “Letters to Charlotte von Stein,” roll., p. 358.]</i> + </p> + <p> + “Will you be satisfied to love me as your friend and sister?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” <i>[Footnote: + Goethe’s words.—See “Letters to Charlotte von Stein,” roll., p. 358.]</i> + </p> + <p> + “Then here is my hand,” said she, with a charming smile. + </p> + <p> + “I will be your friend and sister, and—” + </p> + <p> + “What now, my Charlotte? do finish—what is it?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </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—of perfect happiness—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’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. + </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 “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. + </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. “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Do so, my dear Gleim,” said the Duchess Amelia, smiling, “you seem really + exhausted; let the young man continue the agreeable and welcome + entertainment.” + </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—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!” + </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. “Those are + not in the Annual,” cried Gleim, quite forgetting decorum,—“that—” + </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—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. + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” <i>[Footnote: Wieland’s own words.—See + Lewes’ “Life of Goethe,” 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 “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!” + </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: “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!” + </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. “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?’ + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “To set the fox to keep the geese,” interrupted Thusnelda in her lively + manner. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </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> + “What is it?” the latter asked. “Have important dispatches arrived?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you not injure my poor Goechhausen, you wanton fellow?” + </p> + <p> + “No! it is not very dangerous, duchess. It is only a harmless surprise, + which the duke promised Fraulein von Goechhausen.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “No, your highness, you know very well that the young duchess—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You alarm me, Gochhausen; what good is it? You do not mean that the + lovely Countess Werther—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right—we must take care to prevent it. Has not the countess + been absent at her estate four days?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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—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!” + </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—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. + </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—the night of enchantment and + witchery.<i>[Footnote: See Lewes’ “Life and Writings of Goethe,” 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’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. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +“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! +</pre> + <p> + “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!” + </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’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> + “Such presumption deserves punishment, my good peasant, and if there is no + one else to do it the ghosts must.” + </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. + “Oh, what can it be?” + </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> + “A ghost! a ghost! oh, have mercy upon us! Amen! amen!” + </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’s nocturnal bath, until our time.—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—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> + “Because I am bewitched, duchess, and my sleeping-room has disappeared + from earth—because some cursed demon or wizard has enchanted me, + this wicked—” + </p> + <p> + “Beware what you say!” interrupted the duchess; “it is most probably the + duke that you are inveighing against, and calling a demon and wizard.” + </p> + <p> + At this Thusnelda sprang up as if struck by an electric shock—“The + surprise, this is what the duke promised me.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, listen, your highness!” cried Thusnelda, after having hastily perused + the contents of the ducal missive. + </p> + <p> + “‘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.’” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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 “the duke had had her walled in, for fear she would tell the + trick to her mistress.” + </p> + <p> + “And so you were really hermetically sealed?” said the duchess. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I will accept it, duchess,” cried Thusnelda, laughing—“and all is + forgiven and forgotten.” + </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> + “Trude, is there no news from him yet? Have you never seen him since? Did + he not tell you about it?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Something must have happened to him,” sighed Marie. “He is very ill, + perhaps dying, and—” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “Did you see him, and speak with him, Trude?” + </p> + <p> + “No Marie, he was not there; and the people in the house told me that he + had been gone for a week.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “Did you see him to speak with him, dear good Trude?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </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, “Herr Ebenstreit!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “I will go down,” whispered Trude; “perhaps I can hear something.” + </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> + “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.” + </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> + “Very well—say that I will come directly.” + </p> + <p> + The servant remained rubbing his hands in an undecided, embarrassed + manner. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you not go down?” asked Marie. “Have you any thing further to tell + me?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I thank you,” said Marie, gently. “I am glad to feel that you have + sympathy for me.” + </p> + <p> + “If I can be of the least service to you, have the goodness to call me, + and give me your commissions.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed I will, although I do not believe it practicable.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope miss will not betray me to Frau von Werrig or old Trude.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I promise you that, and here is my hand upon it.” + </p> + <p> + 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.’” + </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> + “Thank you, it is very well that I should know that; I will go down + directly,” 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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I congratulate you, mother—you have at last found the long-desired + heir to your name.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” she proudly interrupted him, “have I ever permitted this familiar + appellation?” + </p> + <p> + “I have allowed it,” blurted out the general, packed in cushions in his + roiling chair. “Proceed, my dear son.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it thus arranged?” asked Marie. “Is the marriage to take place early + to-morrow, and then the happy pair take a journey?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I will avail myself of this permission,” she quietly answered. “I wish to + have a private conversation with this gentleman immediately, and without + witnesses.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how unfortunate I am!” sighed Herr Ebenstreit. “My dear Marie asks + just that which I unfortunately cannot grant her.” + </p> + <p> + “What should prevent your fulfilling my wish?” asked Marie. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “After the wedding there will be opportunities enough for such follies,” + grumbled the general. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Mother, do you insist upon it?” cried Marie, terrified. “Will you not + indulge this slight wish?” + </p> + <p> + “‘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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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. “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. + </p> + <p> + “Again I say, speak, my dear son, and tell my daughter the truth; do you + hear, the truth?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Was that all that I told you?” asked the mother, coldly. + </p> + <p> + “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.’” + </p> + <p> + “And what did you reply?” asked Marie, almost breathless. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Lost—lost without hope!” cried Marie, in anguish, covering her face + with her hands. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “She will kill me,” cried the general; “she will murder her aged parents, + leaving them to starve and perish, and—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And they will hear me abjure you.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!’” + </p> + <p> + “Woe to you!” cried her mother. “Woe to the seducer who has persuaded our + child to sin and crime, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Hush mother! I will not permit you to slander him whom I love, and ever + shall, so long—” + </p> + <p> + “Until you forget him, and love me, Marie,” 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. “Where are you going?” demanded her mother. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “No, nothing would gain her; she is a silly fool, who thinks only Marie is + of consequence.” + </p> + <p> + Ebenstreit shrugged his shoulders. “That means that she would sell herself + at a high price. I beg that you will send for her.” + </p> + <p> + “You will see,” said she, calling the old woman, who entered from the + opposite door. + </p> + <p> + Trude looked about, scowling and grumbling. “Leberecht told me my mistress + called me.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you then look so furious, and what are you seeking on the table?” + asked Frau von Werrig. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “That I always have been, and ever shall be,” snarled Trude. “No person + can say aught against me. Now, I want my money.” + </p> + <p> + “And obstinate enough you have been too,” said her mistress. “Can you deny + that you have not always taken my daughter’s part?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, will you then faithfully help us to prevent it?” quickly asked + Ebenstreit. + </p> + <p> + “How can I do it?” she sighed, shrugging her shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “That is to say, I must betray my Marie?” cried Trude, angrily. + </p> + <p> + “No, not betray, but rescue her. Will you do it?” asked Ebenstreit. + </p> + <p> + “I wish to be paid my wages, my two hundred thalers, that I have honestly + earned, and I will have them.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </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: “If I had had four hundred thalers + the last time I played, I could have won back my money in playing again.” + </p> + <p> + “Old woman,” said Ebenstreit, “have you not finished with your reckoning?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, as dear as she can,” laughed Trude—“five hundred is my price.” + </p> + <p> + “You shall have it in cash in an hour,” said Ebenstreit, in a friendly + manner. + </p> + <p> + “So much money,” whined the general; “it would have saved me if I had had + it that last time.” + </p> + <p> + “My son-in-law, I must confess you are exceedingly generous,” remarked the + mother. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Send Leberecht here, Trude!” + </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. “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I was looking for you, lovely one—nothing more!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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> + “Calm yourself—do not weep so—it breaks my heart, my dear + child.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Go now, Trude, and learn if he has returned; upon him depends my + happiness, and life even—he is my last hope!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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’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. + </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, “Oh, Trude! dear Trude! all goes well, I fear + nothing now. God has sent me the savior which I implored!” + </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’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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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—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!” + </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’s, and + placed them in his gouty hand, when Trude entered, exultingly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, general, but I thought good news was never amiss.” + </p> + <p> + “What have you pleasant to tell us?” harshly demanded Frau von Werrig. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “Has she, then, been converted by your persuasion?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not wish, in the least, to see her,” said her mother; “she can do + what she likes until then.” + </p> + <p> + “I will tell Marie, and she will rejoice,” cried Trude. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.’” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Hark! there is the post-horn again, you must go,” murmured Trude, + struggling to force back her tears. + </p> + <p> + “Bless me, mother,” implored Marie, kneeling. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Amen, amen!” sighed Marie, “now farewell, dear mother, farewell!” + </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> + “They are gone,” 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> + “Well, what have you to say?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “If she comes, then I am a miserable fool and scoundrel, but I beg you to + call Trude.” + </p> + <p> + It was a long time before the old woman appeared, confused and sleepy, + asking—“what they wanted at such a late hour?” + </p> + <p> + “Go and tell my daughter that I wish to see her at once.” + </p> + <p> + Trude trembled, but composed herself, saying, “There is time enough + to-morrow. Fraulein has been asleep a long time.” + </p> + <p> + “She lies,” sneered Leberecht, taking the precaution to protect himself + behind the general’s arm-chair. “She knows that she is not in bed.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Fraulein has locked the door so as not to be disturbed.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said Leberecht, “Trude has locked it, and has the key in her + pocket.” + </p> + <p> + “Give up the key,” shrieked the general, who in vain tried to rise, “or I + will call the police, and send you to prison.” + </p> + <p> + “Do it, but I will not give it to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you not see she has it?” cried Leberecht. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you wretch, I will pay you—I will scratch your eyes out, you + miserable creature!” + </p> + <p> + “Trude, be quiet,” commanded Ebenstreit; “the general orders to give up + the key—do it!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, do it at once,” shrieked Frau von Werrig, “or I will dismiss you + from my service.” + </p> + <p> + “That you will not have to do, as I shall go myself. I will not give up + the key.” + </p> + <p> + “The door is old, and with a good push one could open it,” said Leberecht. + </p> + <p> + “Come, my son, let us see,” 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> + “They have broken open the door!” cried the general. + </p> + <p> + “I said that it was old and frail—what do you say now, beautiful + Trude?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “She is gone!” shrieked the mother, rushing into the room. + </p> + <p> + “The room is empty,” cried Ebenstreit. “Marie is not there. Tell us, + Leberecht, what you know about it.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “O Almighty God, have compassion upon my poor little Marie,” 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> + “Speak!” commanded his master, “and tell me what you have to say.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “What strange, unheard-of language is this?” said Ebenstreit, astonished. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And Trude,” said Ebenstreit, quickly. + </p> + <p> + “You know she will not betray Fraulein, and you have not even tried to + make her.” + </p> + <p> + “You are mistaken; Trude is as easily bought as any one.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “How so? Has she given it away?” + </p> + <p> + “You provided the money for your bride to run away and marry elsewhere, as + Trude gave it to them.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Three thousand thalers, and a clerkship in your bank, which you intend to + continue under another name.” + </p> + <p> + “You are beside yourself. I am not so foolish as to grant such senseless + demands.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a miserable scamp!” cried Ebenstreit, enraged; “I will inform the + police. There are means enough to force you to give the information.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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—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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Philip, it is a sign of ill-luck! Falling stars betoken misfortune!” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “My flowers and paintings will also be as well received in as in Berlin,” + added Marie, smilingly. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Moritz responded, “Amen, my beloved, amen!” + </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’s shoulder. “What was it? Did you not + hear it?” + </p> + <p> + “What, my beloved, what should I hear? Do the stars salute you? Do the + angels greet their sister upon earth?” + </p> + <p> + “Hark! there it is again! Do you not hear it? Listen! does it not seem as + if one called ‘Halt! halt!’” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, truly, I hear it now also! What can happen, love? Why trouble + ourselves about the outer world and the existence of other beings?” + </p> + <p> + “I know not, but I am so anxious, my heart almost ceases to beat, with + terror!” + </p> + <p> + “Halt! halt!” the wind carries forward the shriek, and above their heads + it sounds like the screeching of ravens. + </p> + <p> + “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! + </p> + <p> + Horsemen! horsemen! in full speed they come! + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + The postilion beat his horses! In full chase they followed—more and + more distinctly were heard the curses and yells. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, God in heaven, have mercy upon us in our need!” + </p> + <p> + “Faster, postilion!—in mercy, faster!” + </p> + <p> + “Halt! halt!—in the name of the king, halt!” + </p> + <p> + This startled the postilion, and he turned to listen, and again a furious + voice yelled, “In the name of the king, halt!” + </p> + <p> + The postilion drew up. “Forgive me, sir, but I must respect the name of + the king.” + </p> + <p> + Forward galloped the horsemen. + </p> + <p> + “Philip,” whispered Marie, “why do we live—why do we not die?” + </p> + <p> + He folded her in his arms, and passionately kissed her, perhaps for the + last time. “Marie, be mindful of our oath—constant unto death!” + </p> + <p> + “Constant unto death!” she repeated. + </p> + <p> + “Be firm and defy all the storms of life!” + </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’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. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Marie, I come as the ambassador of your parents, and am fully + empowered to lead your back to your father’s house.” + </p> + <p> + She answered not, but sat immovable and benumbed with terror, the tears + rolling down her cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “We have nothing to say to each other,” answered Ebenstreit, calmly. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </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’s head sank upon his breast, almost in the + agony of death. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I will myself make it known before all men,” cried Moritz, with a + contemptuous laugh. “I have insulted you and branded you.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “We will be silent, Herr Ebenstreit.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </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—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. + </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. “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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—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. “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?” + </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, “I thank thee, O Lord! Her + heart is not dead! It lives, for it suffers!” + </p> + <p> + “It suffers,” groaned Marie, “the anguish of death.” + </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> + “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.” + </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’s step in the anteroom, + who descended at a certain hour every day, he withdrew by the other + entrance. + </p> + <p> + “Who goes out every time I come in?” 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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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. “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.” + </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. “How disfigured you + look,” she cried exultingly. “Where did you get that scar?” + </p> + <p> + “You know well, Marie,” he murmured, gloomily. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very cruel to remind me of it, Marie,” he softly whispered. + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + Trude entered at this instant, pale and excited. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “There is some one here who wishes to speak with you, Marie; he has + something very important to tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “How dare you announce any one without my permission?” cried Frau von + Werrig. + </p> + <p> + “Silence, mother!—if I may be allowed, let us hear who it is.—Speak, + dear Trude, who is it?” + </p> + <p> + “It is the Director Gedicke from the Gray Cloister,” said Trude, with + quivering voice. + </p> + <p> + Marie was startled—a glowing red overspread her cheeks, and she was + obliged to lean against a chair for support. + </p> + <p> + “I forbid you to receive him,” 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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + For response, the director drew two large folded documents from his + pocket, approaching the general. “Do you recognize this seal?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” solemnly answered the general; “it is the royal seal from the + king’s private cabinet.” + </p> + <p> + “Read the address upon this, and the unopened letter.” + </p> + <p> + “Truly, the latter is directed to my daughter, and the other to Professor + Gedicke.” + </p> + <p> + Herr Gedicke opened the letter, asking the general if he could recognize + the king’s handwriting. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he answered, “I know it well.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “You have heard the royal command, ladies and gentlemen; will you respect + it?” said the professor, turning around with an air of proud satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </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: “Is he + living? Tell me only this, or is he ill?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he lives, he does not suffer from bodily ills, but the sickness of + the soul.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Fraulein, I have.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is he? Where did you see him?” + </p> + <p> + “In prison!” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + Marie gave one hollow moan, covering her corpse-like face with her hands. + </p> + <p> + “In this abode of torture, in this dwelling of the damned, he must remain + ten long years, if death does not release him?” + </p> + <p> + “What did you say?” she groaned. “Ten long years? Have they condemned + him?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I thank you for this kind word,” said Marie, seizing the hand of the old + man, and pressing it to her lips. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You noble, generous man, I shall love you for it as long as I live. Did + you speak with the king?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Has he pardoned Moritz?” Marie asked, with brightening hopes. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What are the conditions, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You saw Moritz?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you communicate the conditions?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “And he?” + </p> + <p> + “He refused, with rage and indignation!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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. “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: + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Just!” shrieked Marie, in anguish—“ten years just?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “To-day even—in three hours, my poor child!” + </p> + <p> + “Free! And I shall have saved him! Tell me what I have to do. What is the + king’s will?” + </p> + <p> + “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.’” + </p> + <p> + “Give it to me quickly,” she gasped. “I will sign it! He must be free! He + shall not go mad!” + </p> + <p> + She rapidly signed the paper. “Here is my sentence of death! But he will + live! Take it!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “To announce to your parents in my presence that you will marry Herr + Ebenstreit, and let the ceremony take place as soon as possible.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I swear it to you upon my word of honor, by my hope of reward from + above.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + The old man folded her in his arms, tears streaming down his cheeks. “God + bless you, my daughter, as I bless you!” + </p> + <p> + “I dare not tarry,” she shuddered. “Let my parents enter.” + </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’s arm, followed by his wife, Marie approached them + with a haughty, determined manner, who regarded her with astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Make it known, my dear Marie. Name your condition. I will joyfully fulfil + it,” said Ebenstreit. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “To all that which my dear Marie wishes.” + </p> + <p> + “You can now weave the bridal-wreath in my hair, mother. I consent to the + marriage.” + </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—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> + “Your work is finished,” she said; “my mother will place that, I thank + you.” + </p> + <p> + As Trude entered, Marie was standing in the centre of the room, regarding + it with sinister, angry looks. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Then I will promise you, my poor child,” sighed Trude. + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear Marie, can I not do it?” asked Trude, with quivering voice. + </p> + <p> + “No, not you; touch not the fatal wreath! You have no part in that! Call + my mother—it is time!” + </p> + <p> + Trude turned sadly toward the door, Marie glancing after her, and calling + her back with gentle tone. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + Her mother rustled in, clothed in her splendid wedding-garments. “Did you + send for me, dear Marie?” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, mother—I beg you to put on my myrtle-wreath.” + </p> + <p> + “How! have you no endearment for me?” she asked, smilingly. “Why do you + say ‘you’ instead of ‘thou?’” + </p> + <p> + “It is better so, mother,” she coldly answered. “Will you adorn me with + the bridal-wreath?” + </p> + <p> + “Willingly, my dear child; it is very beautiful and becoming.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “My dear child, I know that you think so to-day; but you will soon change, + and find that wealth is a supportable misfortune.” + </p> + <p> + “Mother, one day you will recall these words. Crown me for the hated + bridal. The sacrifice is prepared!” + </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: “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” asked the king. “What characteristic did I name?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Sire,” said Herzberg, shrugging his shoulders, “the taxes are already so + heavy that it will be difficult to increase them.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” cried Herzberg, with enthusiasm, “would that the entire nation might + hear these words, and engrave them upon their hearts!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What principle do we owe to Jean Jacques?” asked the king. + </p> + <p> + “Sire, the principle that man is good by nature!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, mon cher, who says that knows but little of the abominable race to + which we belong!” <i>[Footnote: The king’s words.—See “Prussia.” + vol. iv., p. 221.]</i> + </p> + <p> + “Do you not believe in this doctrine?” 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’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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing at all—truly nothing! The crown prince has a noble, + generous heart, a good understanding; only—” + </p> + <p> + “Why hesitate, Herzberg? Go on—what is your ‘only?’” + </p> + <p> + “I would only say that the crown prince must beware and not be governed by + others.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you mean that he will be ruled by mistresses and favorites?” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What does the crown prince’s mistress say to it? Is she not jealous?” + </p> + <p> + “Of which one does your majesty speak?” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Does Enke do that?” asked the king. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + His majesty suddenly stopped, and looked at Herzberg with surprise, who + was smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you laugh, Herzberg?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, how did you manage to conclude it?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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!” + </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. “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, your majesty,” answered Herzberg, joyfully, “He is a splendid little + boy, of simple and innocent heart, and bright, vigorous mind, modest and + unpretending.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Herzberg, as he glanced at the different articles of furniture, + “I see none.” + </p> + <p> + “Look upon the table by the window—what do you there see?” + </p> + <p> + “Your majesty, there is an instrument-case and a sword-sheath.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I beg pardon, majesty, but I believe the judge obeyed the very letter of + the law, and—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” <i>[Footnote: The king’s own words.—Seo “Prussia, Frederick + the Great,” vol. iv.]</i> + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “May it be so,” said Frederick, with earnestness. “Now tell me, do you + know what day of the month it is?” + </p> + <p> + “Sire, it is the 30th of May.’” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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’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. + </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—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. + </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> + “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!” <i>[Footnote: The king’s words.—See + “Posthumous Works,” 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’s undying soul, the king had written + the word of profoundest mystery and revelation, of hope and prophecy—“Immortality.” + </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—Windspiel + upon his knees, and in the sand at his feet the word traced by his own + hand, “Immortality.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIX. CAGLIOSTRO’S RETURN. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </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> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Cagliostro!” shrieked Wilhelmine, shrinking terrified away. “Oh, mercy + upon me, it is Cagliostro!” + </p> + <p> + “Why are you so frightened, my daughter?” he asked, gently. “Why do you + withdraw from me, and cast down your eyes?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought you were in Courland,” she stammered, confused. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Then allow me to say that I abjure these tears, and laugh at the idea + that these hypocrites and necromancers weep over me.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Unhappy one, do you dare to say that to me?” cried Cagliostro, + menacingly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Wilhelmine regarded it attentively. “This is the ring which I gave at the + tribute-altar instead of gold, which you desired.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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. “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </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. “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.” + </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’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. + </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. “My dear brothers,” said he, “you have + unfortunately announced me the truth—Wilhelmine Enke is faithless—is + an apostate.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And you, my beloved brother, think otherwise—do you not?” asked + Cagliostro, gently. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Toil and strive, my son, and you shall rise to the highest grade, in + which presentiment and recognition, thinking and knowing, are one.” + </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> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + At this instant a modest knocking was heard at the door, which was + repeated at different intervals. + </p> + <p> + “It is my servant,” said Bischofswerder, “and he has undoubtedly an + important communication for me.” + </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, “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?” + </p> + <p> + Astonished, he replied in the affirmative, begging his master to read it. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Both gentlemen glanced astonished and enraptured, first at the sealed + epistle and then at the great Magus. + </p> + <p> + “Open the letter and convince yourselves of the contents!” commanded + Cagliostro. + </p> + <p> + “It is unnecessary,” cried Bischofswerder, with enthusiasm. “We recognize + in you truth and knowledge; you have revealed to us the contents.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, there is a lingering doubt in the mind of brother Chrysophorus!” + said Cagliostro, regarding Woellner fixedly, who stood with downcast eyes + before him. + </p> + <p> + “My ruler and master,” stammered Woellner, in confusion, “I dare not + doubt, only—” + </p> + <p> + “You would only be convinced, open then the letter,” interrupted + Cagliostro, sarcastically. + </p> + <p> + With a sharp knife, Bischofswerder cut the end of the envelope, and handed + the letter to him. + </p> + <p> + “Give it to Chrysophorus,” commanded the count. “He shall read it, and may + the incredulous become a believer!” + </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’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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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> + “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!” + </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> + “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!” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Permit me once more to lay my head at your feet, and receive power from + the touch thereof,” implored Bischofswerder. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + Smilingly he received their homage, and assisted them to rise. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “Master, no one could discover that it had been opened. Command what shall + be done with it.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Allow me to guard, with my life, your sublime person!” cried + Bischofswerder. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Above all things obey my command concerning the letter,” replied the + count, smiling. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “It is the route to Sans-Souci,” murmured Bischofswerder, in a low voice, + but the count must have understood him, as he repeated aloud: + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Departed!” cried the two gentlemen, frightened. “Will you, then, forsake + us?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “There are nine, master.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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—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> + “Have you recognized the sign which I wear upon my breast?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, master,” he stammered, bowing down with the greatest reverence. + </p> + <p> + “Then you belong to the elect of the Inner Temple, for the sign of + knowledge is only made known to them.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “It is I, Lorenza,” he said, sadly; “I was obliged to awaken you, to tell + you something important.” + </p> + <p> + “Are the pursuers here? Have they discovered us? Are they coming to take + us to prison?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no; be quiet, Lorenza, no one has discovered us!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “For the moment we are safe, but I have something important to tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Even in this extreme danger you only thought of your riches, not of me,” + said Cagliostro, with a bitter smile. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And when are you going, Joseph?” Lorenza asked, with a touch of + melancholy. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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 “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!” + </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, “Es ritten drei Reuter zum Thore hinaus!” + </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 “Drei Reuter,” 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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.’” + </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> + “Julius,” murmured the steward, softly, “give my hair a good pulling, that + I may awake from this horrible dream.” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot,” he whimpered, “my hands and feet are lame. I cannot move.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “We are bewitched; it is a ghost from the infernal regions!” groaned the + steward. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot abide it any longer—I shall die!” said the second waiter. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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> + “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! + </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’s letter + in his cabinet. + </p> + <p> + Immediately the police were instructed to arrest Count St. Julien at the + hotel “King of Portugal.” + </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. “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Herzberg laughed. “This is one of his tricks, and by it I recognize the + great necromancer.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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, “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. + </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> + “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.” + </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> + “Well, so let it be; the fathers shall see that I am a believer,” 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. “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. + </p> + <p> + In silence they reached the side-door of the palace, where a close + carriage awaited them. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you taking me?” asked Frederick William, as he entered, + followed by the two brothers. + </p> + <p> + “To the Invisibles,” answered a strange voice. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </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> + “What have we come here for?” asked the prince. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “I fear not, but wish to be in the company of the spirits,” answered the + prince, proudly. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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: + “Summon thrice those that thou desirest to see.” + </p> + <p> + “Marcus Aurelius, Leibnitz, and the distinguished elector,” called the + prince in a loud voice. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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: “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!” + </p> + <p> + “I will perform that which you demand,” wept the prince, as the deathly + terror and nervous excitement made him yielding. + </p> + <p> + “Swear!” cried the chorus of masks. + </p> + <p> + “I swear that Wilhelmine Enke shall no longer be my mistress. I swear by + all that is holy that I will renounce her! I—” + </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. “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Is it true, Bischofswerder,” said the prince, languidly, “that I have + sworn to renounce Wilhelmine Enke, and never to love her more?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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, “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. + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The loud ringing of a bell sounded through the solitary drawing-rooms. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “Here I am,” she answered; “were you looking for me?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I have not instructed him thus. Dear Marie has not ordered it in her + letter.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear Marie,” repeated Frau von Werrig. “How can you permit yourself to + speak so intimately of the rich Baroness von Ebenstreit?” + </p> + <p> + “Very true, it is not right,” sighed Trude; “I beg pardon.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.’” + </p> + <p> + “What cold, heartless words are these! One could hardly believe that a + daughter was writing of her parents.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Sorrow! is it possible that Frau von Werrig has any griefs? I supposed + there was nothing in the world troubled her.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you sorry for that, Frau von Werrig?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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. “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. + </p> + <p> + The steward and housekeeper followed the silent couple. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, I recall that we are very seldom alone!” sighed her husband. + </p> + <p> + “It would be fearful if we were,” 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. “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “My child, my child,” whimpered the mother, “is it possible that my + daughter can receive me thus after so long a separation?” + </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> + “I did not forget it, my lady, and I have read the orders to Frau von + Werrig, but she—” + </p> + <p> + “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?’ + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Baron,” said Marie, commandingly, “have the kindness to dismiss the + steward. I wish to speak with you and Frau von Werrig.” + </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> + “Did you not hear, Trude?” cried the mother, impatiently. “Tell her to + go!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You must excuse it, dear Marie. It was the longing of mother’s heart + which led me hither; the love—” + </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: “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he answered, somewhat agitated; “it is the right of every + housekeeper—I understand you.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, dear Marie, you are cruel!” cried her husband, quite frightened. + </p> + <p> + “She is a degenerate, good-for-nothing creature!” cried the mother. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + Scalding tears fell from the mother’s eyes as she shrieked, “She drives me + from her house!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Have the goodness to communicate them,” said Ebenstreit. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “For me alone?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, for yourself alone, Frau von Werrig.” + </p> + <p> + “Who vouches for the fulfilment of your promise?” + </p> + <p> + “My word, Frau von Werrig.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no confidence but in a written promise.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I will have it made out, and bring you the document to-morrow + morning.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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: “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—” + </p> + <p> + She drew suddenly back, her face assuming its usually cold, look as she + heard her husband enter. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But he receives very great wages, and is still very active, though + advanced.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Heaven keep me from acting otherwise than as a nobleman!” cried + Ebenstreit. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no one to invite,” cried her husband. + </p> + <p> + “No matter! Make the necessary preparations. I will go to my room to make + my toilet.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you not allow me to accompany you? You are not yet familiar with the + house.” + </p> + <p> + “Trude will show it to me, and you can at the same time give the orders.” + </p> + <p> + Nodding proudly to Ebenstreit, she told Trude to precede her, following + the old woman through the suite of brilliant rooms. + </p> + <p> + “Here is my lady’s dressing-room,” 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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Into the little corridor, baroness.” + </p> + <p> + “Did I not order that there should be but one entrance to my + sleeping-room, and that from the dressing-room?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Into the simple, quiet room, at the baroness’s request, Trude opened the + door, saying, “Here we can be alone.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And was there no one else to think of, my child?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she gently murmured, “I thought of him. Tell me all you know about + him, and hide nothing from me in this hour.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought you would ask me, and I went to Director Gedicke yesterday, to + inform myself.” + </p> + <p> + “What did you hear? Tell me the most important. Does he live? Is he + restored to health?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “How did he receive it? What did he say?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Marie wept also—scalding tears trickled through her fingers as she + lay upon the floor. + </p> + <p> + 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—” + </p> + <p> + “And is married I hope,” murmured Marie. “Is he not happily married, + Trude?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “He hates them—does that mean that he hates me?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “You will yet learn to love it again, Marie.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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. “What is the matter? What were you about to remark?” asked + Marie, indifferently. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Marie bent forward to look at the paper which her husband handed her, and, + pointing with her finger, read “Professor Philip Moritz.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you intend to invite him?” asked Ebenstreit, quite alarmed. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all, dearest. On the contrary, you are perfectly right, and I + admire you for it.” + </p> + <p> + “Then give the list to the butler, for it is quite time that the + invitations were given out.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and the mingling of straw feathers, diamonds, flowers, lace, and + birds is truly ridiculous in her head-dress.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “One remarks the puffed-up parvenue,” whispered Frau von Morien. “Every + thing smells of the varnish upon the newly-painted coat-of-arms.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not remember possessing any other souvenirs,” replied the countess, + confused. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + At this instant the usher announced in a loud voice, “Professor Philip + Moritz.” + </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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” said her husband, “I have brought you an old acquaintance, + Professor Moritz.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </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’s trembling voice. + “What is it, professor? How can I serve you?” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me who you are?” replied Moritz, with a gruff laugh. + </p> + <p> + “I am the Baron Ebenstreit von Leuthen!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </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> + “Why do you not answer me?” cried Moritz, stamping his foot. “Are you the + coward? Was this red scar caused by the whip-lash?” + </p> + <p> + Another long pause ensued, and a distinctly audible voice was heard, + saying, “Yes, it is he!” + </p> + <p> + “Who replied to me?” asked Moritz, turning his angry glance away from + Ebenstreit. + </p> + <p> + “I,” said Marie. “I reply for my husband!” + </p> + <p> + “You? Are you the wife of this man?” thundered Moritz. + </p> + <p> + “I am,” Marie answered. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I did,” she calmly answered. + </p> + <p> + “And by what right, madame? This is the question I wish answered, and I + came here for that purpose.” + </p> + <p> + “I invited you because I desired to see you.” + </p> + <p> + “Shameless one!” cried Moritz, furious. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I shall order the footmen to thrust you out of the house. Here, servants, + remove this man; he is an escaped lunatic, undoubtedly.” + </p> + <p> + Two footmen pressed forward through the circle which crowded around + Moritz. + </p> + <p> + “Whoever touches me, death to him!” thundered Moritz, laying his hand upon + a small sword at his side. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </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. “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed I do recall it; how could I have forgotten it?” replied the + marquis, with the ready tact of the diplomat. + </p> + <p> + “Have I won?” asked Marie, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “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!” + </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—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. “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!” + </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—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. + </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—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. + </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—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> + “Perhaps Fate destines us to become martyrs to the holy cause,” said + Woellner, devoutly folding his hands. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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’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.” + </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> + “Indeed, this standing is quite insupportable,” 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. + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Evidently there is no one there,” sighed Bischofswerder. “It is the hour + of dining of the king.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish it were ours also,” whined Woellner. “I confess I yearn for bodily + nourishment, and my legs sink under me.” + </p> + <p> + “I am fearfully hungry,” groaned Bischofswerder; “besides, the air is + suffocating. I am resolved to go to extremes, and make a noise.” + </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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Sire,” stammered Bischofswerder, “we have tried to summon spirits.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, most gracious sire,” said Woellner, humbly, “you must first be + received in the holy order of the Rosicrucians.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “It will be my holy duty to follow strictly your majesty’s commands,” said + Bischofswerder. + </p> + <p> + “And I also will strive to promote the will of my king,” asserted + Woellner. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I must acknowledge that you are,” sighed Herzberg. + </p> + <p> + “And admit also that it would be just to send these in, famous fellows as + criminals to Spandau.” + </p> + <p> + “Sire, unfortunately, there are crimes and offences which the law does not + reach, and which cannot be judged.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “A title which will be confirmed in centuries to come, for every history + will speak of Frederick the Second as Frederick Great.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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 “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. + </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> + “His highness is not here, having departed immediately after the two + gentlemen, and is not yet returned,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Now that we are alone, what do you think of this affair?” asked Woellner. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot vouchsafe a reply until I have eaten a pheasant’s wing, and + drunken my champagne,” 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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “That is to say, we will have much to suffer if we, in fanatical + indiscretion, do not submit to circumstances,” said Bischofswerder. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, I do admit it,” replied Wollner, pathetically. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “No one would do it,” sighed Woellner, “no one would sacrifice themselves + like Samson for this Delilah.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What may they be, dear brother?” + </p> + <p> + “We must compromise the matter.” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Because he knows from his spies that she mingles with the Illuminati and + the Freemasons, and that she is our opponent,” said Woellner. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “It is quite true, we should be mindful of the device of our Invisible + Fathers. The end sanctifies the means,” sighed Woellner. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “What!” shrieked Woellner, clasping his hands—“you do not mean that—” + </p> + <p> + “That Rinaldo has returned to the enchanted garden of Armida.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, let us hasten to release him at once, and revue his soul from + perdition!” cried Woellner, springing up. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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. + “Your thoughts are veiled, dearest; will you not confide to me that which + lies concealed there?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Wilhelmine, it is a mourning veil, and hides the sorrow of + renunciation.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not understand you, Frederick,” she smilingly replied. “Who could + compel you to an abnegation which would cause you grief?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “Is that all, my dear?” she replied, smiling, as he finished. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” he asked, astonished. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing more than I would know if you have only sworn to renounce + Wilhelmine Enke!” + </p> + <p> + “What could I have done more prejudicial to you?” he cried, not a little + irritated. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I must change my name by marrying some one!” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + “Marry! and I give you to another? I will never consent to that,” he + cried, alarmed. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “I have already found one,” whispered Wilhelmine, smiling. “Your valet de + chambre Rietz is willing to stand with me in a sham marriage.” + </p> + <p> + “My body-servant!” + </p> + <p> + “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. <i>[Footnote: + Historical.—See F. Forster, “Latest Prussian History,” vol. 1., p. + 74.]</i> Will you sign it?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “The moment that you, my dear lord and master, have inscribed your name,” + 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, “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!” + </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 “Wilhelmine + Enke to Carl Rietz.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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—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. + </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: + “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!” + </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> + “He must come at another time,” cried Ebenstreit, impatiently, “I am busy + now; I—” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary, I beg you to remain,” quietly replied Splittgerber, “for + what I have to say concerns you and your husband equally.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You will not give any fete to-day,” 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. “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, mercy! what has happened?” cried Ebenstreit, terrified. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “What else?” asked Ebenstreit, almost breathless. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how cruel you are!” groaned Ebenstreit. + </p> + <p> + “Did you say, baroness, that this house is no longer his?” asked + Splittgerber, alarmed. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “And do you mean to retain this wealth if your husband becomes bankrupt? + Do you not possess a common interest?” asked Splittgerber. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + The old book-keeper turned with a slight nod, and strode away through the + drawing-room. + </p> + <p> + “Have you nothing to say to him? Will you let him go thus?” asked Marie, + impetuously. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing at all. What should I say?” he replied, shrugging his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Then I will speak with him.” Marie called loudly after Splittgerber, + saying, “I have a word to speak to you.” + </p> + <p> + The book-keeper remained standing near the door, and turning with downcast + face, demanded of Marie what she wished. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </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’s proffered hand to take leave, he + pressed it most respectfully to his lips. + </p> + <p> + “You will return in an hour?” Marie asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I shall seek the gentlemen, and bring them with me,” he graciously + replied. + </p> + <p> + “Thanks; I will then await you.” + </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> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Marie!” he cried, retreating in terror, “with what fearful + detestation you regard me!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you swear it?” she coldly replied. + </p> + <p> + “I swear that I accept your conditions.” + </p> + <p> + “Bring the writing-materials from the window-niche, and seat yourself by + this table.” + </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. “Sign this with your full name, and add, ‘With my own free will + and consent,’” she commandingly ordered him. + </p> + <p> + “But you will first make known to me the contents?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + He hastily seized the pen and wrote his name, handing the paper to Marie, + sighing. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + Ebenstreit saw it, and as he again handed her the paper, he exclaimed, “I + read in your eyes the intense hate you bear me.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “Because they would borrow money of the rich man,” interrupted Marie. + </p> + <p> + “Of course my coffers have always been accessible to my dear friends, and + I prized the honor of proving my friendship by my deeds.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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 “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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I begged you to come a quarter of an hour sooner, for I would gladly + speak with you alone a few moments.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought so, and hastened up here.” + </p> + <p> + “Did not my old Trude go to see you some days since?” asked Marie, + timidly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “It is true that since you have come back he has changed. The old + melancholy seems to have returned.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “That was an excellent idea,” cried Marie. “Has it been accomplished?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” <i>[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.]</i> + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you really believe that?” asked Herr Gedicke. “Were you not also in + Italy?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You have forgotten, countess, that you begged of me to give the order for + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that is true! Then I am your debtor.” + </p> + <p> + “If you are not too proud to receive it as a present?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, most certainly not; on the contrary, I thank you, my dear.—Tell + me, my dear Morien, is not this woman an angel?” + </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> + “Welcome, marquis,” she said, quickly, in a low voice, “Have you brought + me the promised papers?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “The sum is sufficient for my wants, and I rated its value according as it + is taxed.” + </p> + <p> + “There are a hundred thousand dollars in bills of exchange, payable at the + French embassy at any moment,” said the marquis. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You speak, baroness, as if you would forsake the circle of which you are + the brightest ornament.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </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> + “Gentlemen,” said Splittgerber, in a loud voice, “this is Baron Ebenstreit + von Leuthen, principal of the banking-house Ludwig.” + </p> + <p> + The two gentlemen approached, one of them saying, “They sent us here from + your office.” + </p> + <p> + “This is not the place for business,” replied Ebenstreit. “Follow me!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Marie,” cried Ebenstreit, terrified, rushing toward her, and seizing her + by the arm. “Marie—” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Free yourself? It is not true! You are my wife still,” replied + Ebenstreit, alarmed. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Is that the paper which you have made me sign?” cried Ebenstreit, + alarmed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, drawn up by my notary, and both of our names are signed to it.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a fraud!” cried Ebenstreit. “I will protest against it.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I had the honor to pay to the baroness one hundred thousand dollars, as + she rightly informs you.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Marquis,” cried Ebenstreit, pale with anger, “have you really bought this + house and its contents?” + </p> + <p> + “I have done so, and the one hundred thousand dollars the baroness has + paid over to Herr Splittgerber.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I am ruined,” groaned Ebenstreit—“I am lost!” and, covering his + face with his hands, he rushed from the room. + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + 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—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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> + “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?” + </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. + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Follow me, dear Marie; only by your side am I happy. You are free and + independent,” cried Moritz. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, father,” cried Marie, leaning upon the venerable old man, “explain to + him that I am still the wife of that hated man!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she cried, embracing the faithful old woman. “Farewell, Philip—Italy + calls you!” + </p> + <p> + “I will go, but when I return will you not be my wife?” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg’s Old Fritz and the New Era, by Louise Muhlbach + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA *** + +***** This file should be named 3460-h.htm or 3460-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/6/3460/ + +Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team, +and David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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