'V 4. • Look you 1 look at those two little feet : they are my asseseors." p. 48. BERLIN AND SANS-SOUCI; OR. FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FRIENDS. AN HISTORICAL NO VEL. BY L. Mt^HLBACH, pse^ ACTHOB OF "JOSEPH n. ANT) HIS COUET," "rKEDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS COtTBT," "the EKFBESS JOSEPHINE," "ANDREAS HOFER," ETC., ETC. TBANSLATHi)' 1'BUK THK GKRKAN, BY MES. CHAPMAN COLEMAN AND HER DAUGHTERS. iith inu$ttiat»on$. COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME. NEW YORK: D. APPLETOK AND COMPANY, 1, 3, AND 5 BOND STREET. 18 8 8. ^/?^^^»W^ Ektebed, according to Act of Congress, In the year 1867, by , , . D., APPLETON.&.CO.,. Ill tho Clect'B Offiae of the Diat»i($ Ci)urt «,t thf TJrti^^ Sljites for the Southern DkUlct ci • ••'''-*■*•* • •- • •■ • Sew York. Cc^ OONTET^TS. BOOK I. PAOB Chap. I.— The Alchemist's Incantation, 5 II.— The Old Courtier, . . 8 in.— The Morning Hours of a King, 14 IV.— The Pardoned Courtier, . 20 v.— How the Princess ULica be- came Queen of Sweden, . 26 Vt.— The Tempter, . . 31 "TT.-The First Interview, . . 38 VIII. — Signora Barbarina, . 43 IX.— The King and Barbarina, . 46 X.— Eckhof, ... 62 XI.— A Life Question, . . 57 XII.— Superstition and Piety, . 61 BOOK II. Chap, I.- -The Two Sisters, . 69 II.- -The Tempter, . 74 III.- -The Wedding -Festival of the Princess Ulrica, 76 rv.- -Behind the Curtain, 79 V. -The Shame-faced King, . 81 VI. —The First Rendezvous, 87 vri. —On the Balcony, 90 VIII.- -The First Cloud, 95 IX.- -The Council of War, 101 X. —The Cloister of Camens, 104 XI.- -The King and the Abbot, . 107 XII. —The Unknown Abbot, , 111 XIII. —The Levee of a Dancer, 114 XIV. -The Studio, 121 XV. —The Confession, 126 XVI. —The Traitor, 129 xvri. —The Silver- Ware, . 135 xvm. -The First Flash of Light- ning, 137 Chap. I.- II. m.- IV.- v.- W.- VII.- VIII.- IX.- X.- XI. XIL- XUL- xrv.- XV. XVI.- xvn.- BOOK III. -The Actors in Halle, . -The Student Luplnus, -The iJisturbance in the Thea tre, ... -The Friends, -The Order of the King, -The Battle of Sohr, -After the Battle, -A Letter pregnant with Fate, -The Return to Berlin, . -Job's Post, . . , -The Undeceived, -Trenck's First Flight, -The Flight, -I will, -The Last Struggle for Power, -The Disturbance in the Thea- tre, -Sans-Souci, . BOOK IV Chap. I.— The Promise, . n. — ^Voltaire and his Royal Friend, ni.— The Confidence-Table, rv.— The Confidential Dinner, v.— Rome Sauvee, VI. — A Woman's Heart, . VII. — Madame von Cocceji, VIII.— Voltaire, IX.— A Day in the Life of Voltaire, X.— The Lovers, . XL— Barlnarina, . XII. — Intrigues, XIII.— The Last atruggie. rAox 145 147 150 151 154 156 159 163 169 171 176 182 191 197 203 209 213 217 224 234 244 252 256 262 267 274 283 2S9 294 SOD ivi974:42 BERLIN AND SANS-SOUCI; OB, FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FRIENDS. BOOK I. CHAPTER I. THE alchemist's INCANTATION. It was a lovely May morning I The early rays of the sun had not withered the blossoms, or paled the fresh green of the garden of Charlottenburg, but Quickened them into new life and beau- ty. The birds sang merrily in the groves. The wind, with light whis- pers, swept through the long avenues of laurel and orange trees, which sur- rounded the superb greenhouses and conservatories, and scattered far and wide throughout the garden clouds of intoxicating perfume. The garden was quiet and solitary, and the closed shutters of the castle proved that not only the king, but the entire household, from the dignified and important chamberlain to the frisky gar- den-boy, still slept. Suddenly the si- lence was broken by the sound of hasty steps. A young man in simple citizen costume, ran up the great avenue which led from the garden gate to the con- servatory; then, cautiously looking about him, he drew near to a window of the lower story in a wing of the cas- tle. The window was closed and se- cured with inside shutters; a small piece of white paper was seen between the glass and the shutter. A passer-by might have supposed this was acciden- tal, but the young burgher knew that this little piece of paper was a signal. His light stroke upon the window dis- turbed for a moment the deathlike si- lence around, but produced no other effect; he struck again, more loudly, and listened breathlessly. The shutters were slowly and cautiously opened from within, and behind the glass was seen the wan, sick face of Fredersdorf, the private secretary and favorite of the king. When he saw the young man, his features assumed a more animated expression, and a hopeful smile played upon his lip ; hastily opening the win- dow, he gave the youth his hand. " Good-morning, Joseph," said he ; "I have not slept during the whole night, I was so impatient to receive news from you. Has he shown himself? " Joseph bowed his head sadly. " He has not yet shown himself," he replied, in a hollow voice ; " all our efforts have BERLIN AND SANS-SOUCI; OR, been in vain; we have again sacrificed time, money, and srreiagtb.. He lias not yet appearej." ♦' Alas ! " cried Fredersdorf,, *' who could believe it so difficult' to moye the devil to appear in person, ' wli en he makes his j^resence known daily and hourly through the deeds of men ? I must and will see him ! He must and shall make known this mystery. He shall teach me how and of what to make gold." " He will yield at last ! " cried Joseph, solemnly. "What do you say,? Will we suc- ceed ? Is not all hope lost ? " *' All is not lost : the astrologer heard this night, during his incantations, the voice of the devil, and saw for one mo- ment the glare of his eye, though he could not see his person." " He saw the glare of his eye ! " re- peated Fredersdorf, joyfully. " Oh, we will yet compel him to show himself wholly. He must teach us to make gold. And what said the voice of the devil to our astrologer ? " "He said these words: 'Would you see my face and hear words of golden wisdom from my lips ? so offer me, when next the moon is full and shim- mers like liquid gold in the heavens, a black ram ; and if you shed his blood for me, and if not one white hair can be discovered upon him, I will appear and be subject to you.' " " Another month of waiting, of im- patience, and of torture," murmured Fredersdorf. "Four weeks to search for this black ram without a single white hair; it will be difficult to find ! " " Oh, the world is large ; we will send our messengers in every quarter ; we will find it. Those who truly seek, find at last what they covet. But we will require much gold, and we are suf- fering now, unhappily, for the want of It." " We ? whom do you mean by we ? " asked Fredersdorf, with a contemptuous shrug of the shoulders. "I, in my own person, above all others, need gold. You can well un- derstand, my brother, that a student as I am has no superfluous gold, even to pay his tailor's bills, much less to buy black rams. Captain Kleist, in whose house the assembly meets to-night, has already oflfered up far more valuable things than a score of black rams ; he has sacrificed his health, his rest, and his domestic peace. His beautiful wife finds it strange, indeed, that he should seek the devil every night everywhere else than in her lovely presence." "Yes, I understand that! The be- witching Madame Kleist must ever re- main the vain-glorious and coquettish Louise von Schwerin; marriage has in- fused no water in her veins." " No ! but it has poured a river of wine in the blood of her husband, and in this turbid stream their love and happiness is drowned. Kleist is but a corpse, whom we must soon bury from our sight. The king has made separa- tion and divorce easy ; yes, easier than marriage. Is it not so, my brother ? Ah, you blush ; j^ou find that your light-hearted brother has more observ- ant eyes than you thought, and sees that which you intended to conceal. Yes, yes ! I have indeed seen that you have been wounded by Cupid's arrow, and that your heart bleeds while our noble king refuses his consent to your marriage." "Ah, let me once discover this holy mystery — once learn how to make gold, and I will have no favor to ask of any earthly monarch ; I shall acknowl- edge no other sovereign than my owd will." And to become possessor ot tnis se- cret, and your own master, you require nothing but a black ram. Create for us, then, my powerful and wealthy FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FRIENDS. brother, a black ram, and the work is done ! " " Alas ! to think," cried Fredersdorf, 'that I cannot absent myself; that I must fold my hands and wait silently and quietly ! What slavery is this ! but you, you are not in bondage as I am. The whole world is before you; you can seek throughout the universe for this blood - offering demanded by the devil." " Give us gold, brother, and we will seek; without gold, no black ram; without the black ram, no devil I " Fredersdorf disappeared a mo- ment, and returned with a well-filled purse, which he handed to his brother. " There, take the gold ; send your mes- sengers in every quarter ; go yourself and search. You must either find or create him. I swear to you, if you do not succeed, I will withdraw my pro- tection from you ; you will only be a poor student, and must maintain yourself by your studies." "That would be a sad support, in- deed," said the young man, smiling. "J am more than willing to choose another path of life. I would, indeed, prefer being an artist to being a philos- opher." " An artist ! " cried Fredersdorf, contemptuously ; " have you discovered in yourself an artist's vein ? " " Yes ; or rather, Eckhof has awak- ened my sleeping talent." "Eckhof— who is Eckhof? " "How? you ask who is Eckhof? you know not, then, this great, this exalted artist, who arrived here some weeks since, and has entranced every one who has a German heart in his bosom, by his glorious acting ? I saw bim a few days since in Golsched's Cato. Ah ! my brother, on that even- ing it was clear to me that I also was born for something greater than to sit in a lonely study, and seek in musty books for useless scraps of knowledge. No 1 I wiU not make the world still darker and mistier for myself with the dust of ancient books ; I will illuminate my world by the noblest of all arts — I will become an actor ! " "Fantastic fooll" said his brother. " A Oerman actor ! that is to say, a beggar and a vagabond I who wanders from city to city, and from village to village, with his stage finery, who is laughed at everywhere, even as the monkeys are laughed at when they make their somersets over the camels' backs ; it might answer to be a dancer, or, at least, a French actor." " It is true that the German stage is a castaway — a Cinderella — thrust aside, and clothed with sackloth and ashes, while the spoiled and petted step-child is clothed in gold-embroidered robes. Alas ! alas ! it is a bitter thing that the French actors are summoned by the king to perform in the royal castle, while Schonemein, the director of the German theatre, must rent the Council- house for a large sum of money, and must pay a heavy tax for the permis- sion to give to the German public a German stage. Wait patiently, broth- er, all this shall be changed, when the mysteiy of mysteries is discovered, when we have found the black ram ! I blesa the accident which gave me a knowl- edge of your secret, which forced you to receive me as a member in order to secure my silence. I shall be rich, powerful, and influential ; I will build a superb theatre, and fill the German heart with wonder and rapture." " Well, well, let us first understand the art of making gold, and we will make the whole world our theatre, and all mankind shall play before us ! Hasten, therefore, brother, hasten ! By the next full moon we will be the al- mighty rulers of the earth and all that is therein '. " "Always provided that wo have found the black ram." 8 BERLIN AND SANS-SOTJCI ; OR, " "We •will find him ! If necessary, we will give his weight in gold, and gold can do all things. Honor, love, power, jjosition, and fame, can all be bought with gold 1 Let us, then, make haste to be rich. To be rich is to be inde- pendent, free, and gloriously happy. Go, my brother, go ! and may you soon return crowned with success." " I have stil] a few weighty questions to ask. In the first place, where shall I go?" "To seek the black ram — it makes no diflFereuce where." *' Ah 1 it makes no difference ! You do not seem to remember that the va- cation is over, that the professors of the University of Halle have threatened to dismiss me if my attendance is so ir- regular. I must, therefore, return to Halle to-day, or — " " Return to Halle to - day ! " cried Fredersdorf, with horror. ''That is impossible I You cannot return to Halle, unless you have already found what we need." "And that not being the case, I shall not return to HaUe; I shall be dismissed, and will cease to be a stu- dent. Do you consent, then, that I shall become an actor, and take the great Eckhof for my only professor ? " " Yes, I consent, provided the com- mand of the alchemist is complied with." " And how if the alchemist, notwith- standing the blood of the black ram, is unhappily not able to bring up the devil ? " At this question, a feverish crimson spot took possession of the wan cheek of Fredersdorf, which was instantly chased away by a more intense pallor. " If that is the result, I will either go mad or die," he murmured. "And then will you see the devil face to face ! " cried his brother, with a gay laugh. " But perhaps you might find a Eurydice to unlock the under world for you. Well, wc shall see. Till then, farewell, brother, farewell." Noddmg merrily to Fredersdorf, Jo- seph hurried away. Fredersdorf watched his tall and graceful figure as it disappeared among the trees, with a sad smile. "He possesses something which is worth more than power or gold ; he is young, healthy, full of hope and confi- dence. The world belongs to him. while I—" The sound of footsteps called his at- tention again to the allee. CHAPTER II. THE OLD COTIRTIEK. The figure of a man was seen ap- IDroaching, but with steps less light and active than young Joseph's. As the stranger drew nearer, Fredersdorfs features expressed great surprise. When at last he drew up at the win- dow, the secretary burst into a hearty laugh. " Von Pollnitz ! really and truly I do not deceive myself," cried Fredersdorf, clapping his hands together, and again and again uttering peals of laughter, in which Pollnitz heartily joined. Then suddenly assuming a grave and dignified manner, Fredersdorf bowed lowly and reverentially. "Pardon, Baron Pollnitz, pardon," said he in a tone of mock humility, " that I have dared to welcome you in such an un- seemly manner. I was indeed amazed to see you again; you had taken an eternal leave of the court, we had shed rivers of tears over your irreparable loss, and your unexpected pxesence completely overpowered me." " Mock and jeer at me to yc lur heart's content, dear Fredersdorf; I will iov- FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FRIENDS. 9 fully and lustily unite in your laughter and your sport, as soon as I have re- covered from the fearful jolting of the carriage which brought me here. Be pleased to open the window a little more, and place a chair on the outside, that I may climb in, like an ardent, eager lover. I have not patience to go round to the castle door." Fredersdorf silently obeyed orders, and in a few moments. Von PoUnitz was lying comfortably stretched out on a sUk divan, in the secretary's room. "Ask me no questions, Fredersdorf," said he, breathing loudly; "leave me awhile to enjoy undisturbed the com- fort of your sofa, and do me the favor first to answer me a few questions, be- fore I reply to yours." "Demand, baron, and I will answer," said Fredersdorf, seating himself on a chair near the sofa. " First of all, who is King of Prus- sia? You, or Jordan, — or General Kothenberg, — or Chazot, — or — speak, man, who is King of Prussia ? " "Frederick the Second, and he alone ; and he so entirely, that even his ministers are nothing more than his secretaries, to write at his dictation ; and his generals are only subordinate engineers to draw the plans of battle which he has already fully determined apon ; his composers are only the copy- ists of his melodies and his musical conceptions; the architects are carpen- ters to build according to the plan which he has either drawn or chosen from amongst old Grecian models : in short, all who serve him are literally servants in this great state machine ; they understand his will and obey it, nothing more." " Hum ! that is bad, very bad," said Pollnitz, " I have found, however, that there are two sorts of men, and you have mentioned in your catalogue but one species, who have fallen so com- pletely under the hand of Frederick. You have said nothing of his cook, of his valet de chambre, and yet these arc most important persons. You must know that in the presence of these powers, a king ceases to be a king, and indeed becomes an entirely common place mortal, who eats and drinks and clothes himself, and who must either conceal or adorn his bodily necessities and weaknesses like any other man." Fredersdorf shook his head sadly. "It seems to me that Frederick the Second is beyond the pale of tempta- tion; for even with his cook and his valet he is still a king ; his cook may prepare him the most costly and luxu- rious viands, but unhappily they do not lead him into temptation ; a bad dish makes him angry, but the richest and choicest food has no eflfect upon his hu- mor; he is exactly the same before dinner as after, fasting or feasting, and the favor he refuses before the cham- pagne, he never grants afterward." " The devil ! that is worse still ! " murmured Pollnitz. " And the valet — with him also does the king remain king?" " Yes, so entirely, that he scarcely allows his valet to touch him. He shaves, coifs, and dresses himself." " My God ! who then has any influ- ence over him ? To whom can I turn to obtain a favor for me ? " " To his dogs, dear baron ; they are now the only influential dependants ! " " Do you mean truly the four-footed dogs ? — or — " " The four-footed, dearest baron ! Frederick has more confidence in them than in any two-legged animal. You know the king always trusted much to the instincts of his dogs; he has now gone so far in this confidence, as to be- lieve that the hounds have an instinc- tive aversion to all false, wicked, and evil-minded men. It is therefore very important to every new-comer to be well received by the hounds, as the to BERLIN AND SANS-SOUCI; OR, king's reception is somewhat dependent upon theira" "Is Biche yet with the king ? " "Yes, still his greatest favorite," " I am rejoiced to hear that 1 I was always in favor with the Signora Biche ; it was her custom to smell my pocket, hoping to find chocolate. I beseech you, therefore, dearest friend, to give me some chocolate, with which I may touch and soften the heart of the noble signora, and thus induce the king to look upon me favorably." " I will stick a half pound in each of your pockets, and if Biciie still growls at you, it will be a proof that she is far more noble than men ; in shorty that she cannot be bribed. Have you fin- ished with your questions ? I think it is now my time to begin." " Not so, my friend. My head is still entirely filled with questions, and they are twining and twisting about like the fishing-worms in a bag, by the help of which men hope to secure fish. Be pitiful and allow me to fasten a few more of these questions to my fishing- rod, and thus try to secure my future." " Well, then, go on — ask further ! " " Does Frederick show no special in- terest in any prima donna of the opera, the ballet, or the theatre ? " " No, he cares for none of these things." " Is his heart, then, entirely turned to stone ? " "Wholly and entirely," " And the qtieen-mother, has she no Influence ? " " My God 1 Baron Pollnitz, how long have you been away? You ask me as many questions as if you had fallen directly from the moon, and knew not even the outward appearance of the court." " Dear friend, I have been a whole ear away, that is to say, an eternity. he court is a very slippery place ; and a man does not accustom himself hourly to walk over this glassy parquet he will surely fall. "Also, there is nothing so uncertain as a court life ; that which is true to- day, is to-morrow considered incredi- ble ; that which was beautiful yester- day is thrust aside to-day, as hateful to look upon ; that which we despise to- day is to-morrow sought after as a rare and precious gem. " Oh, I have had my experiences. I remember, that while I was residing at the court of Saxony, I composed a poem in honor of the Countess Aurora of Konigsmark. Tliis was by special command of the king ; the poem was to be set to music by Hasse, and sung by the Italian singers on the birthday of Aurora. Well, the Countess Aurora was cast aside befor'' my poem was fin- ished, and the Countess Kozel had taken her place. I finished my poem, but Amelia, and not Aurora, was my heroine. Hasse composed, the music, and no one who attended the concert, given in honor of the birthday of the Countess Kozel, had an idea that this festal cantata had been originally or- dered for Aurora of Konigsmark I " Once, while I was in Russia, I had an audience from the Empress Eliza- beth. As I approached the castle, lean- ing on the arm of the Captain Ischer- batow, I observed the guard, who stood before the door, and presented arms. Well, eight weeks later, this common guard was a general and a prince, and Ischerbatow was compelled to bow be- fore him ! "I saw in Venice a picture of the day of judgment, by Tintoretto. In this picture both Paradise and Hell were portrayed. I saw in Paradise a lovely woman glowing with youth, beauty, and grace. She was reclining in a most enchanting attitude, upon a bed of roses, and surrounded by angels. Below, on the other half of the picture — that is to say. in Hell — I saw the FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FRIENDS. 11 same woman ; slie liad no couch of roses, but was stretched upon a glowing grid- iron; no smiling angels surrounded her, but a hideous, grinning devil tore her flesh with red-hot pincers. " Pope Adi'ian had commanded Tin- toretto to paint this picture, to make it a monument in honor of the lovely Cinnia, and to glorify her by all the power of art. Cinnia was a very dear friend of Adrian. He was not only a pope, but a man, and a man who took pleasure in all beautiful things. Cinnia was enchanting, and it was Tintoretto's first duty to paint her picture, and make her the principal object in Para- dise. But look you ! the Last Judg- ment by Tintoretto was a large paint- ing, so large that to coimt even the heads upon it is laborious. The heads in each corner are counted separately, and then added together. It required some years, of course, to paint such a picture; and by the time Tintoretto had completed Paradise ^nd com- menced the lower regions, many sad changes had occurred. The fond heart of the seducing Cinnia had withdrawn itself from the pope and clung tena- ciously to Prince Colonna. The Holy Father, as we have said before, not- withstanding he was pope, had some human weaknesses ; he naturally hated the fair inconstant, and sought revenge. He recommended Tintoretto to bring the erring one once more before the public — this time, however, as a guilty and condemned sinner in hell. " Dear Frcdcrsdorf, I think always of this picture when I look at the fa- vorites of princes and kings, and I amuse myself with their pride and ar- rogance. When I see them in their sunny paradise of power and influence, 1 say to myself, ' All's well for the fleet- ing present, I'll wait patiently ; soon I shall see you roasting on the glowing gridiron of royal displeasure, and the envious devils of this world filled with rapture at your downfall, will tear your flesh in pieces.' Friend Freders- dorf, that is my answer to your ques- tion as to whether I have in one short year forgotten the quality of court life." " And by Heaven, that is a profound answer, which shows at least that Baron Pollnitz has undergone no change during the last year, but is still the experienced man of the world and the wise cavalier ! " " But why do you not give me my title, Fredersdorf? Why do you not call me grand chamberlain ? " " Because you are no longer in the service of the king, but have received your dismissal." " Alas ! God grant that the Signora Biche is favorable to me; then will the king, as I hope, forget this dismis- sal. One question more. You say that the queen-mother has no influence; how is it with the wife of the king, Elizabeth Chi-istine ? Is she indeed the reigning sovereign ? " " When did you return to Berlin ? " " Now, to-night ; and when I left the carriage, I hastened here." " Well, that is some excuse for your question. If you have only just ar- rived, you could not possibly know of the important event which will take place at the court to-night. This even- ing the king will present his brother, Augustus William, to the court as Prince of Prussia, and his successor. I think that is a sufficient answer to your question. As to Queen Elizabeth Christine, she lives in Schonhausen, and might be called the widow of her husband. The- king never addresses one word to her, not even on grand festal days, when etiquette compels him to take a seat by her at table." " Now one last question, dear friend. How is it with yourself ? Are you in- fluential ? Does Frederick love you as warmly as he did a year ago ? Do you 12 BERLIN AND SANS-SOUCI; OR, hope to reacli the goal of your ambi- tion, and to become all-powerful ? " " I have ceased to be ambitious," sighed Fredersdorf. " I no longer thirst to be the king of a king. My only desire is to be independent of courts and kings — in short, to be my own master. Perhaps I may succeed in this; if not, be ruined, as many others have been. If I cannot tear my chains apart, I will perish under them I As for my influence over the king, it is suflScient to say, that for six months I have loved a woman to distraction, who returns my passion with ardor, and I cannot marry her because the king, notwithstanding my prayers and agony, wiU not consent." " He is right," said Pollnitz, earnest- ly, as he stretched himself out com- fortably on the sofa ; " he is a fool who tliinks of yielding up his manly free- dom to any woman." " You say that, baron ? you, who gave up king and court, and went to Numberg in order that you might marry ! " " Aha, how adroitly you have played the knife out of my hands, and have yourself become the questioner I Well, it is but just that you also should have your curiosity satisfied. Demand of me now and I will answer frankly." " You are not married, baron ? " " Not in the least ; and I have sworn that the goddess Fortuna alone shall be my beloved. I will have no mortal wife." " The report, then, is untrue that you have again changed your religion, and become Protestant ? " " No, this time rumor has spoken the truth. The Nurnberger patrician would accept no hand offered by a Catholic ; so I took off the glove of my Catholicism and drew on my Protes- tant one. My God ! to be a man of the world, his outside faitli is nothing more than an article of the toilet. Do you not know that it is hon ton foi princes when they visit strange courts to wear the orders and uniforms of theit entertainers ? So it is my rule of eti- quette to adopt the religion which the circumstances in which I find myself seem to make suitable and profitable. My situation in Nurnberg demanded that I should become a Protestant, and I became one." " And for all that the marriage did not take place 'i " " No, it was broken off through the obstinacy of my bride, who refused to live in good fellowship and equality with me, and gave me only the use of her income, and no right in her proper- ty. Can you conceive of such folly ? She imagined I would give myself in marriage, and make a baroness of an indifferently pretty burgher maiden; yes, a baroness of the realm, and ex- pect no other compensation for it than a wife to bore me ! She wished to wed my rank, and found it offensive that I should marry, not only her fair self, but her millions I The contest over this point broke off the contract, and I am glad of it. From my whole soul I regret and am ashamed of hav- ing ever thought of marriage. The king, therefore, has reason to be pleased with me." " You are thinking, then, seriously of remaining at court ? " " Do you not find that natural, Fre- dersdorf? I have lived fifty years at this court, and accustomed myself to its stupidity, its nothingness, and its ceremony, as a man may accustom him- self to a hard tent-bed, and find it at last more luxurious than a couch of eider-down. Besides, I have just lost a million in Nurnberg, and I must find a compensation ; the means at least to close my life worthily as a cavalier. I must, therefore, again bow my free neck, and enter service. You must aid me, and this day obtain for me an au FREDEuICK THE GREAT A^^D HIS FRIENDS. 13 dience of the king. I hope your influ- ence will reach that far. The rest must be my own affair." " We will see what can be done. I have joyful news for the king to-day. Perhaps it will make him gay and com- plaisant, and he will grant you an au- dience." '* And this news which you have for him?" " The Barbarina has arrived 1 " " What ! the celebrated dancer ? " " The same. We have seized and forcibly carried her off from the repub- lic of Venice and from Lord McKenzie ; and Baron Swartz has brought her as prisoner to Berlin ! " Pollnitz half raised himself from the sofa, and, seizing the arm of the pri- vate secretary, he looked him joyfully in the face. " I have conceived a plan," said he, " a heavenly plan ! My friend, the sun of power and splendor is rising for us, and your ambition, which has been weary and ready to die, will now revive, and raise its head proudly on high 1 That which I have long sought for is at last found. The king is too young, too ardent, too much the genius and the poet, to be completely unimpassioned. Even Achil- les was not impenetrable in the heel, and Frederick has also his mortal part. Do you know, Fredersdorf, who wUl discover the weak point, and send an airow there ? " « No." " Well, I will tell you : the Signora Barbarina. Ah, you smile ! you shake your imbelieving head. You are no good psychologist. Do you not know that we desire most earnestly that which Beams difficult, if not impossible to at- tain, and prize most highly that which we have won with danger and difficul- ty ? Judge, also, how precious a treas- ure the Barbarina must be to Frederick. For her sake, he has for months car- ried on a diplomatic contest with Ven- ice, and at last he has literally torn her away from my Lord Stuart McKenzie." " That is true," said Fredersdorf, thoughtfully ; " for ten f''ay3 the king has waited with a rare impatience for the arrival of this beautiful dancer, and he commanded that, as soon as she reached Berlin, it should be announced to him." " I tell you the king will adore the Signora Barbarina," said Pollnitz, as he once more stretched himself upon the sofa pillows. " I shall visit her to- day, and make the necessary arrange- ments. Now I am content. I see land, a small island of glorious prom- ise, which will receive me, the poor shipwrecked mariner, and give me shel- ter and protection, I will make my- self the indispensable counsellor of Barbarina; I will teach her how she can melt the stony heart of Frederick, and make him her willing slave." " Dreams, dreams ! " said Freders- dorf, shrugging his shoulders. " Dreams which I will make realities as soon as you obtain me an audience with the king." " Well, we will see what can be done, and whether — but listen, the king is awake, and has opened hia window. He is playing upon the flute, which is his morning custom. His morning music is always the barometer of his mood, and I can generally judge what kind of royal weather we may have, whether bright or stormy. Come with me to the window and listen awhile." "Agreed," said PollnitZi, and ht sprang with youthful elasticity from the divan and joined Fredersdorf at the window. They listened almost breathlessly to the sweet tones which seemed to whisper to them from the upper windows ; then mingling and melting with the perfume of the orange- blossoms and the glorious and life-giv- ing morning air, they forced their sweet 14 BERLIN AND SANS^OUCI; OR, and subtle essence into the room with the cunning and hardened old courtiers. Fredersdorf and PoUnitz listened as a sly bat listens to the merry whistling of an innocent bird, and watches the propitious moment t6 spring upon her prey. It was an adagio which the king played upon his flute, and he was indeed a master in the art. Slightly trembling, as if in eternal melancholy, sobbing and pleading, soon bursting out in rapturous and joyful strains of harmony, again sighing and weeping, these melting tones fell like costly pearls upon the summer air. The birds in the odorous bushes, the wind which rustled in the trees, the light waves of the river, which with soft murmurs prattled ujoon the shore, all Nature seemed for the moment to hold her breath and listen to this enchanting melody. Even Fredersdorf felt the power and influence of this music as he had done iu earlier days. The old love for his king filled his heart, and his eyes were misty Avith tears. As the music ceased, Fredersdorf ex- claimed involuntarily : " He is, after all, the noblest and greatest of men. It is useless to be angry with him. I am forced against my will to worship him." *' Now," said PoUuitz, whose face had not for one moment lost its expression of cold attention and sly cunning, " how says the barometer ? May we promise ourselves a clear and sunny day I " " Yes, Frederick is in one of his soft and yielding moods. It is probable he has been some hours awake, and has written to some of his friends — perhaps to Voltaire, or Algarotti ; this makes him always bright and clear." " You think I shall obtain my audi- ence?" " I think you will." "Then, dear friend, I have only to say that I hope you will give me the chocolate for that noble and soul-search- ing-hound, the Signora Biche." CHAPTER HL THE MORNrNG HOURS OB" A KING, KrNG Frederick had finished the adagio, and stood leaning against the window, gazing into the garden; his eyes, usually so fierce and commanding, were softened by melancholy, and a sad smile played upon his lips. The touching air which he had played found its echo within, and held his soul a prisoner to troubled thought. Sudden- ly he seemed to rouse himself by a great effort to the realities of life, and, hastily ringing the bell, he commanded Jordan, the director of the poor and the almshouse, to be summoned to him. A few moments later, Jordan, who had been for some days a guest at the castle of Charlottenburg, entered the king's room. Frederick advanced to meet him, and extended both hands afiectionately. " Good-morning, Jor- dan," said he, gazing into the wan, thin face of his friend, with the most earnest sympathy. "I hope you have had a refreshing night." " I have had a charming night, for I was dreaming of your majesty," he re- plied, with a soft smile. Frederick sighed, released his hands, and stepped back a few paces, " Your majesty ? " repeated he. " "Why do you lay so cold a hand upon that heart which beats so warmly for you? To what purpose is this etiquette? Are we not alone ? and can we not accord to our souls a sweet interchange of thought and feeling without ceremony ? Do we not understand and love each other ? Forget, then, for a while, dear Jordan, all these worldly distinctions. You see I am still in my morning-dress. I do not, like the poor kings upon the stage, wear my crown and sceptre in bed, or with my night-dress." Jordan gazed lovingly and admirinsr FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FRIENDS. 15 ly upon his great fiiend. " You need no crown upon your brow to show to the world that you are a king by the grace of God. The majesty of great- ness is written upon your face, my king." "That," said Frederick, with light irony, " is because we prioces and kings are acknowledged to be the exact im- age of the Creator, the everlasting Father. As for you, and all the rest of the race, you dare not presume to com- pare yourselves with us. Probably you are made in the image of the second and third persons of the Trinity, while we carry upon our withered and wearisome faces the quintessence of the Godhead." " Alas ! alas, sire, if our pious priest heard you, what a stumbling-block would he consider you ! " The king smiled. "Do you know, Jordan," said he gravely, "I believe God raised me up for this special mis- sion to be a rock of offence to these proud and worldly priests, and to tram- ple under foot their fooleries and their arrogance ? I look upon that as the most important part of my mission upon earth, and I am convinced that I am appointed to humble this proud church, the vain and arrogant work of hypocritical priests, and to establish in its place the pure worshij) of God." "Yes, yes," said Jordan, shrugging his shoulders; " if the mass of men had the clear intellect of a Frederick ! if their eyes were like those of my royal eagle, to whom it is given to gaze steadfastly at the sun without being dazzled. Alas ! sire, the most of our race resemble you so little I They are all like the solemn night-owls, who draw a double curtain over their eyes, lest the light should blind them. The church serves as this double eyelid for the night-owls among men, or, rather, the churches, for the cunning and cov- etousness of those priests has not been satisfied with one church, but has es- tablished many." " Yes," said the king angrily ; " they have sown dragons' teeth, from which bloodthirsty warriors have sprung, who wander up and down, and in mad am- bition tear aU mankind, and themselves included, to pieces. Listen, Jordan, we have fallen upon a subject which, as you know, has interested and occu- pied me much of late, and it is precise- ly upon these points that I have sought your counsel to-day. Be seated, then, and hear what I have to say to you. You know that the pietists and priests charge me with being a heretic, because I do not think as they think, and believe as they believe. Which of them, think you, Jordan, has the true faith ? What is truth, and what is wisdom ? Each sect believes itself — and itself alone — the possessor of both. That is reason enough, it appears to me, for doubting them all." " In the same land ? " " Yes, in various places in the same city, we are taught entirely different doctrines in the name of religion. On one hand, we are threatened with ever- lasting fire in the company of the devil and his angels, if we believe that the Almighty is bodily present in the ele- ments offered at the sacrament of the Lord's supper. On the other hand, we are taught with equal assurance, that the same terrible punishment will be awarded us unless we believe that God is literally, and not symbolically, pres- ent in the bread and wine. The sim- ple statement of the doctrines of the different churches in the world would fill an endless number of folios. Each religion condemns all others, as leading to perdition ; they cannot, therefore, all be true, for truth does not contradict itself. If any one of these were the true faith, woiild not God have made it clear, and without question, to our eyes? God, who is truth, cannot be 16 BERLIN AND SANS-SOUCI; OR, dark or doubtful ! If these differences in religion related only to outward forms and ceremonies, we would let them pass as agreeable and innocent changes, even as we adopt contentedly the changes in style and fashion of our clothing. The doctrines of faith, as taught in England, cannot be made to harmonize with those fulminated at Rome. He to whom it would be given to reconcile all opposing doctrines, and to unite all hearts in one pure and simple faith, would indeed give peace to the world, and be a Messiah and a Saviour." "Yes, he would accomplish what God himself, as it appears, has not thought proper to do ; his first great act must be to institute and carry out a terrible massacre, in which every priest of every existing religion must be pursued to the death." " And that is precisely my mission," Baid the king. " I will institute a mas- sacre, not bodily and bloodily, but soul- piercing and purifying. I say to you, Jordan, God dwells not in the churches of these imperious priests, who choose to call themselves the servants of God. God was with Moses on Mount Sinai, and with Zoroaster in the wilder- ness; he was by Dante's side as he wrote his ' Divina Commedia,' and he piloted the ships of Columbus as he went out bravely to seek a new world ! God is everywhere, and that mankind should reverence and believe in and worship him, is proved by their bear- ing his image and their high calling." Jordan seized the hand of the king and pressed it enthusiastically to his tips. "And the world says that you do not believe in God," he exclaimed ; " they class you with the unbelievers, and dare to preach against you, and slander you from the pulpit." " Yes, as I do not adopt their dog- mas, I am, to them, a heretic," said the king, laughing ; " and when they preach against me, it proves that they fear me, and look upon me as a powerful enemy. The enemy of the priests I will be aa long as I live, that is to say, of those arrogant and imperious men who are wise in their own eyes, and despise all who do not agree with them 1 I will destroy the foundations of all these different churches, with their different dogmas. I will utterly extinguish them by a universal church, in which every man shall worship God after hia own fashion. The worship of God should be the only object of every church ! All these different doctrines, which they cast in each other's teeth, and for love of which they close their doors against each other, shall be given up. I will open all their churches, and the fresh, pure air of God shall purify the musty buildings. I will build a temple, a great illimitable temple, a second Pantheon, a church which shall unite all churches witiiin itself, in which it shall be granted to every man to have his own altar, and adopt his own religious exercises. All desire to worship God; every man shall do so according to his conscience ! Look you, Jordan, how pathetically they discourse of brotherly love, and they tear each other to pieces ! Let me only build my Pantheon, and then will all men, in truth, become brothers. The Jew and the so-called heathen, the Mo- hammedan and the Persian, the Calvin- ist and the Catholic, the Lutheran and the Reformer — they will all gather into my Pantheon, to worship God ; all their forms and dogmas will simultaneously fall to the ground. They will believe simply in one God, and the churches of all these different sects will soon stand empty and in ruins." * While the king spoke, his counte- nance was illumined ; a noble enthusi- asm fired his large clear eyes, and hia * Thi6bault, In hU " Soavenlrs de Vingt Ani, tells of Frederick's plan for a Pantheon. FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FRIENDS. IT cheeks glowed as if from the awakening breath of some new internal light. Jordan's glance expressed unspeaka- ble love, but at the same time he looked BO sad, so pained, that Frederick felt chilled and restrained. "How, Jordan I you are not of my opinion?" said he, with surprise. "Our souls, which have been always heretofore in union, are now apart. You do not approve of my Panthe- on?" " It is too exalted, sire, to be realized. Mankind require a form of religion, in Drder not to lose all personal control" "No, you mistake. They require only God, only love for this exalted and lofty Being, whom we call God. The only proof by which we can know that we can sincerely love God, lies in a steadfast and strong purpose to obey Him. According to this, we need no other religion than our reason, the good gift of God. So soon as we know that He has spoken, we should be silent and submissive. Our inward worship of God should consist in this that we acknowledge Him and confess our sins ; our outward worship in the perform- ance of all our duties, according to our reason, the exalted nature of God, and our entire dependence upon Him." " It is to be regretted, sire, that this world is not sufficiently enlightened to comprehend you. I am afraid that your majesty will bring about exactly the opposite of that which you design. All these religious sects which, as you say, are so entirely antagonistic, would by this forced union feel themselves humiliated and trampled upon; their hatred toward each other would be constantly augmented ; their antipathies would find new food ; and their reli- gious zeal, which is always exclusive, would burn with fiercer fury. Not only the priests, but kings and princes, would look upon the carrying out of your plan with horror. And shall not 3 this daring step bring terror into the cabinets of kings? A monarch, who has just drawn the eyes of all politi- cians upon himself, now proposes to take charge of the consciences of his subjects, and bow them to his will ! Alas, how would envy, with all her poisonous serpents, fasten upon the triumphal car of a king who, by the great things he had already achieved, had given assurance of yet greater re- sults, and now stoops to tyrannize over and oppress the weak and good, and cast them among the ruhis of their temiiles of worship to weep and lament in despau" ! No, my king, this idea of a Pantheon, a universal house of wor- ship, can never be realized. It was a great and sublime thought, but not a wise one ; too great, too enlarged and liberal to be a])preciated by this pitiful world. Your majesty will forgive me for having spoken the honest truth. I was forced to speak. Like my king, I lo7e the one only and true God, and God is truth." " You have done well, Jordan," said the king, after a long pause, during which he raised his eyes thoughtfully toward heaven. " Yes, you have dono well, and I believe you are right in your objections to my Pantheon. 1 offer up to you, therefore, my favorite idea. For yoiu* dear sake, my Panthe- (m shall become a ruin. Let this be a proof of the strong love I bear you, Jordan. I will not contend with the priests in my church, but I will pursue them without faltering into their own ; and I say to you, this will be a long and stiff-necked war, which will last while my life endures. I will not have my people blinded and stupefied by priests. I will suffer no other king in Prussia. I alone will be king. These proud priests may decide, in silence and humility, to teach their churches and intercede for them ; but let them once attempt to play the role of small BERLIN AND SANS-SOUC'I; 03, popes, and to exalt themselves as the only possessors of the key to heaven, then shall they find in me an adversary who ■will prove to them that the key is false with which they shut up the Holiest of Holies, and is but used by them as a means to rob the people of their worldly goods. Light and truth shall be the device of my whole land. This will 1 seek after, and by this will I govern Prussia. I will have no blinded subjects, no superstitious, con- science-stno.kcn, trembling, priest-rid- den slaves. My people shall learn to think ; itiought shall be free as the wanton air m Prussia; no censor or police shall innit her boundary. The thoughts ol men should be like the lifo-giviiig and beautifying sun, all- nourishing and all-enlightening; call- ing into existence and fructifying, not only the rich, and rare, and lovely, but also the noxious and poisonous plant and the creeping worm. These have also the right of life : if left to them- selves, they soon die of their own insignificance or nothingness — die un- der the contempt of all the good and great" " I fear," said Jordan, " that Freder- ick the Great is the only man whose mind is so liberal and so unprejudiced. Bdieve me, my king, there is no living .-.jvereign in Europe who dares guaran- tee to his subjects free thought and free speech." "I will try so to act as to leave noth- ing to fear frotii the largest liberty of thought or speech," said the king, quietly. " Men may think and say of me what they will — that troubles me not; I will amuse myself with their slanders and accusations of heresy; as for theh- applause — well, that is a cheap merchandise, which I must share with every expert magician and every popu- lar comedian. The applause of my own conscience, and of my friends — thy applause, my Jordan — is alone of value for me. Then," said he, earnest 'ly, almost solemnly, "above all things, I covet fame. My name shall not pas3 away like a soft tone or a sweet melody. I will write it in golden letters on the tablet of history ; it shall glitter like a star in the firmament; when centuries have passed away, my peoj^le shall re- member me, and shall say, ' Frederick the Second made Prussia great, and enlarged her borders ; he was a father who loved his people more than he did himself, and cheerfully sacrificed his own rest and comfort in their service ! he was a teacher who spoke to them by word of mouth, and gave liberty to their souls.' Oh, Jordan, you must stand by me and help me to reach this great goal for which I thirst. Remain with me, dear friend, remain ever by my side, and with thy love, thy con- stancy, thy truth, and thy sincerity, help me to establish what is good, and to punish the evil ; to acknowledge and promote what is noble, and expose the unworthy to shame and confusion. Oh, Jordan ! God has jierhaps called me to be a great king; remain by me, and help me to be a good and simple-mind- ed man." He threw hiinself with impetuosity on Jordan's breast, and clasped him passionately in his arms. Jordan re- turned the king's embrace, and silently raised his moist eyes to heaven. A prayer to " Our Father " spoke in that eloquent eye, a heart- felt, glowing prayer for this man now resting upon his bosom, and who for him was not the all - powerful and commanding sovereign, but the noble, loving, and beloved fricjd, this poet and philoso- pher, before whose mighty genius his whole soul bowed in wonder and admi- ration; but suddenly, in this moment of deep and pious emotion, a cold, an icy chill, seemed to shiver and play like the breath of death over his features, and the hot blood, like liquid metal FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FRIENDS. 19 ruslied madly through his veins; he gave a light, short cough ; with a quick, abrupt movement, he released bimsalf from the arms of the king. Withdrawing a few steps, he turned away, and pressed his handkerchief to his lips. "Jordan, you suffer, you are sick," said the king, anxiously. Jordan turned again to him ; his face was calm, and even gay; his eyes beamed with that strange, mysterious, and touching fire of consumption which hides the shadow of death under the rosy lip and glowing cheek ; and, less cruel than all other maladies, leaves to the soul its freshnes.^, and to the heart its power to love and hope, "Not so, sire," said Jordan, "I do not suflfjr. How can I be otherwise than well and happy iu your jjres- euce 1 " As he said this, he tried to thrust his handkerchief in his pocket. The king looked earnestly at this handkerchief. " Jordan, why did you press that handkerchief so hastily to your lips ? " Jordan forced a smile. " "Well," said he, " I was obliged, as your majesty no doubt saw, to cough, and I wished to make this disagreeable music as soft as possible." " That was not the reason," said Frederick ; and, stepping hastily for- ward, he seized the handkerchief. *' Blood 1 it is drenched in bloo:l," said he, in a tone so full of anguish, that it was evident he recognized and feared ^his fatal signal. "Well, yes, it is blood ; your majesty sees I am bloodthirsty ! Unhappily, I do not shad the blood of your enemies, but my own, which I would gladly give, drop by drop, if I could thereby save my king one hour's suftering or care." " And yet you, Jordan, are now the cause of my bitterest grief. You are ill, and you conceal it from me. You suffer, and force yourself to seem gay, and hide your danger from me, in place of turning to my physicians and demand- ing their counsel and aid." "Frederick the Wise once said to me, 'Physicians are but quacks and charlatans, and a man gives himself up to a tedious suicide who swallows their prescriptions.' " "No, it was not 'Frederick tho Wise,' but 'Frederick the Fool,' who uttered that folly. When the sun is shining, Frederick has no fear of ghosts ; but at the turn of midnight, he will breathe a silent 'Father in heaven,' to be protected from them. We have no use for confidence in phy- sicians when we are healthy ; when we are ill we need them, and then we bo- gin to hold them iu consideration. You ai'c ill, your breast suffers. I en- treat you, Jordan, to call upon my phy- sician, and to follow his advice prompt- ly and systematically. I demand this as a proof of your friendship." " I will obey your majesty, immedi- ately," said Jordan, who now found himself completely overcome by the weakness which follows loss of blood ; trembling, and almost sinking, he leaned upon the table. Frederick per- ceived this, and rolling forward his own arm-chair, with loving and tender care, he placed Jordan within it. He called his servant, and ordered him to roll the chau- to Jordan's room, and go instantly for the physician Ellertt. " It will be all in vain, and I shall lose him," murmm'ed the king. "Yes, I will lose him, as I have lost Suhm, aud as I shall soon lose my Caesarius, the good Kaiserling. Alas! why di-duy I must be not only amiable, but lovely. To-day I will make my appear- ance as an innocent and impretcnding maiden." With a mocking smile she entered her boudoir, and called her attendants. CHAPTER VI. THE TEMPTEK. Princess Uleica was earnestly occu- pied with considerations of her toilet. Amelia had returned to her room, mus- ing and thoughtful. There were difficulties in the way of the new role she had resolved to play, and by which she expected to deceive the world. She stood for a moment be- fore the door of her dressing-room, and listened to the voices of her attendants, who were gayly laughing and talking. It was her custom to join them, and take a ready part in their merry sports and jests. She must now, however, deny herself, and put a guard over her heart and lips. Accordingly, with a dark frown on her brow and tightly- compressed lips, she entered the room in which her maids were at that moment arranging her ball toilet for the even- ing. " It seems to me that your loud talk- ing is most unseemly," said Amelia, in a tone so haughty, so passionate, that the smiles of the two young girls van- ished in clouds. " I will be obliged to you if you will complete your work noiselessly, and reserve your folly till you have left my room! And what is that, Mademoiselle Felicien ? for what purpose have you prepared these flow- ers, which I see lying upon your ta- ble?" " Your royal highness, these flowers are for your coiffure, and these bou- quets are intended to festoon youi dress." 82 BERLIN AND SANS-SOUCI; OR, " How dare you allow yourself to de- cide upon my toilet, mademoiselle ?" " I have not dared," said Fglicien, tremblingly; "your royal highness or- dered moss roses for your hair, and bouquets of the same for your bosom and your robe." '' It appears to me," said Amelia, im- periously, " that to contradict me, and at the same time assert that which is false, is, to say the least, unbecoming your position. I am not inclined to appear in the toilet of a gardener's daughter. To prove this, I will throw these flow- ers, which you dare to assert I ordered, from the window ; with their strong odor they poison the air." With a cruel hand, she gathered up the lovely roses, and hastened to the window. "Look, mademoiselle, these are the flowers which you undertook to prepare for my hair," said Amelia, with well- assumed scoi*n, as she threw the bouquet into the garden which sur- rounded the castle of Monbijou ; " look, mademoiselle." Suddenly the princess uttered a low cry, and looked, blushing painfully, in- to the garden. In her haste, she had not remarked that two gentlemen, at that moment, crossed the great court which led to the principal door of the castle ; and the flowers which she had BO scornfully rejected, had struck the younger and taller of the gentlemen ex- actly in the face. He stood completely amazed, and looked questioningly at the window from which this curious bomb had fallen. His companion, nowever, laughed aloud, and made a profound bow to the princess, who still stood, blushing and embarrassed, at the window. " From this hour I believe in the le- gend of the Fairy of the Roses," said the elder of the two gentlemen, who was indeed no other than Baron P611- nitz. "Yes, princess, I believe fully, and I would not be at all astonished if your highness should at this moment flutter from the window in a chariot drawn by doves, and cast another shower of blossoms in the face of my fi'iend." The princess had found time to re- cover herself, and to remember the haughty part she was determined to play. " I hope, baron," she said sternly, " you will not allow yourself to suppose it was my purpose to throw those roses either to your companion or yourself? I wished only to get rid of them." She shut the window rudely and noisily, and commanded her attendants to complete her toilet at once. She seated herself sternly before the glass, and ordered her French maid to cover her head with jewels and ribbons. The two gentlem.en still stood in the garden, in earnest conversation. "This is assuredly an auspicious omen, my friend," said Pollnitz to the young oflScer, who was gazing musing- ly at the roses he held in his hand. He had raised his eyes from the flowers to the window at which the lovely form of the princess had, for a few moments, appeared. " Alas ! " said he, sighing, and gazing afar oif ; " she is so wonderfully beauti- ful — so lovely ; and she is a princess ! " Pollnitz laughed heartily. " One might think that you regretted that fact! Listen to me, my young friend; stand no longer here, in a dream. Come, in place of entering the castle immediately, to pay our respects to the queen -mother, we will take a walk through the garden, that you may allay your raptures and recover your rea- son." He took the arm of the young man, and drew him into a shady, private pathway. " Now, my dear friend, listen to me, and lay to heart all that I say to you. Accident, or, if you prefer it, Fate FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FRIENDS. 33 brouglit U3 together. After all, it seems indeed more than an accident. I had just returned to Berlin, and was about to pay my respects to the queen- mother, when I met you, who at the same time seek an audience, in order to commend yourself to her royal protec- tion. You bear a letter of commenda- tion from my old friend, Count Lottum. All this, of course, excites my curiosity. I ask you your name, and learn, to my astonishment, that you are young Von Trenck, the son of the woman who was my first love, and who made me most unhappy by not returning my passion. I assure you, it produces a peculiar sensation to meet so unexpectedly the son of a first love, whose father, alas ! you have not the happiness to be. I feel already that I am prepared to love you as foolishly as I once loved your fair mother." "I will not, like ray mother, reject your vows,"' said the young officer, smiling, and extending his hand to Pollnitz. "I hoped as much," said Pollnitz; "you shall find a fond father in me, and even to-day I will commence my parental duties. In the fii'st place, what brings you here ? " " To make my fortune — to become a general, or field-marshal, if possible," SM.d the young man, laughing. " How old are you ? " " I am nineteen ." " You wear the uniform of an officer of the life-guard ; the king has, there- fore, already promoted you ? " " I was a cadet but eight days," said Trenck, proudly. " My step - father, Count Lottum, came with me from Dantzic, and presented me to the king. His majesty received me graciously, and remembered well that I had received, at the examination at Konigsberg, the drst prize from his hand." "Go on, go on," said Pollnitz; "you see I am all ear, and I must know your 3 present position, in order to be useful to you." " The king, as I have said, received me graciously, even kindly ; he made me a cadet in his cavalry corps, and three weeks after, I was summoned before him ; he had heard something of my wonderful memory, and he wished to prove me." "Well, how did you stand the proof?" " I stood with the king at the win- dow, and he called over to me quickly the names of fifty soldiers who were stand- ing in the court below, pointing to each man as he called his name. I then re- peated to him every name in the same succession, but backward." " A wonderful memory, indeed," said Pollnitz, taking a pinch of Spanish snuflf; "a terrible memory, which would make me shudder if I were your sweetheart ! " '' And why ? " said the young officer. " Because you would hold ever in re- membrance all her caprices and all her oaths, and one day, when she no longer loved you, she would be held to a strict account. Well, did the king subject you to further proof? " " Yes ; he gave me the material for two letters, which I dictated at the same time to his secretaries, one in French and one in Latin. He then commanded me to draw the plan of the Hare Meadow, and I did so." "Was he pleased?" " He made me comet of the guard," said Trenck, modestly avoiding a more direct answer. "I see you are in high favor: m three weeks you are promoted from cadet to lieutenant! — quick advance- ment, which the king, no doubt, signal- ized by some other act of grace ? " " He sent me two horses from his stable, and when I came to thank him, he gave me a purse containing two hundred ' Fredericks.' " 34 BERLIN AND SANS-SODCI; OR, Pollnitz gave a spring backward. " Thunder ! you arc indeed in favor I the king gives you presents 1 Ah, my young friend, I would protect you, but it seems you can patronize me. The king has never made me a present. And what do you desire to-day of the queen-mother ? " " As I am now a lieutenant, I belong to the court circle, and must take part in the court festivals. So the king commanded me to pay my respects to the queen-mother." '• Ah, the king ordered that ? " said Pollnitz; "truly, young man, the king must destine you for great things — he overloads you with favors. You will make a glittering career, provided you are wise enough to escape the shoals and quicksands in your way. I can tell you, there will be adroit and will- ing hands ready to cast you down; those who are in favor at court have always bitter enemies." "Yes, I am aware that I have ene- mies," said Trenck ; " more than once I have already been charged with being a drunkard and a rioter ; but the king, happily, only laughed at the accusa- tions." "He is really in high favor, and I would do well to secure his friend- ship," thought Pollnitz; "the king will also be pleased with me if I am kind to him." He held out his hand to the young officer, and said with fatherly tenderness: "From this time onward when your enemies shall please to attack you, they shall not find you alone ; they will find me a friend ever at your side. You are the son of the only woman I ever loved — I will cherish you in my heart as my first-born 1 " '•And I receive you as my father with my whole heart," said Trenck; "be my father, my friend, and my counsellor." " The court is a dangerous and slip- pery stage, upon which a joung and inexperienced man may lightly slip, unless held up by a strong arm. Many will hate you because you are in favor, and the hate of many is like the sting of hornets : (me sting is not fatal, but a general attack sometimes brings death Make use, therefore, of your sunshine, and fix yourself strongly in an immov- able position." " The great question is, what shall be my first step to secure it ? " " How ! you ask that question, and you are nineteen years old, six feet high, have a handsome face, a splendid fig- ure, an old, renowned name, and are graciously received at court ? Ah 1 youngster, I have seen many arrive at the highest honors and distinctions, who did not possess half your glittering- qualities. If you use the right means at the right time, you cannot fail of success." " What do you consider the best means ? " " The admiration and favor of wo- men ! You must gain the love of pow- erful and influential women ! Oh, you are terrified, and your brow is clouded ! Perhaps, unhappily, you are already in love?" " No ! " said Frederick von Trenck, violently. " I have never been in love. I dare say more than that : I have never kissed the lips of a woman." Pollnitz gazed at him with an ex- pression of indescribable amazement. " How ! " said he ; " you are nineteen, and assert that you have never em- braced a woman ? " He gave a mock- ing and cynical laugh. " Ordinary women have always ex- cited my disgust," said the young ofiicer, simply ; " and until this day I have never seen a woman who resem- bled my ideal." " So, then, the woman with whom you will now become enamoured will re- ceive your first tender vows ? " " Yes, even so." FKEDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FRIENDS. 35 " And you wear the tiniform of the life-guard — you are a lieutenant ! " cried Pollnitz with tragical pathos, and ex- tending his arms toward heaven. " But how ? — what did you say ? — that until to-day you had seen no woman who approached your ideal ? " "I said that." " And to-day— ?" *' Well, it seems to me, we have both seen an angel to day ! — an angel, whom you have wronged in giving her the common name of fairy." "Aha! the Princess Amelia," said PoUnitz. "You will love this yoimg maiden, my friend." "Then, indeed, shall I be most un- happy ! She is a royal princess, and and my love must ever be unrequited." " Who told you that ? who told you that this little Amelia was only a prin- cess? I tell you she is a young girl with a heart of fire. Try to awake her — she only sleeps I A happy event has already greeted you. The princess has fixed your enraptured gaze upon her lovely form, by throwing or ratlier shooting roses at you. Perhaps the god of Love has hidden his arrow in a rose. You thought Amelia had only pelted your cheek with roses, but the arrow has entered your soul. Try yoiu: .uck, young man ; gain the love of the King's favorite sister, and you will be all-powerful.'' The young officer looked at him with confused and misty eyes. " You do not dare to suggest," mur- mured he, " that—" " I dare to say," cried Pollnitz, inter- rupting him, "that you are in favor with the brother; why may you not also gain the sister's good graces? I say further, that I will assist you, and I will ever be at your side, as a loving Mend and sagacious counsellor." "Do you know, baron, that your wild words open a future to my view before which my brain and heart are reeling? How shall I dare to love a princess, and seek her love in return ? " " As to the first point, I think you have already dared. As to the second, I think your rare beauty and wondrous accomplishments might justify such pretensions." " You know I never can become the husband of a princess." "You are right," said Pollnitz, laughing aloud; " you are as innocent aa a girl of sixteen ! you have this moment fallen headlong in love, and begin at once to think of the possibility of mar- riage, as if love had no other refuge than marriage, and yet I think I have read that the god of Love and the god of Hymen are rarely seen together, though brothers ; in point of fact, they despise and flee from each other. But after all, young man, if your love is virtuous and requires the priest's bless- ing, I think that is possible. Only a few years since the ^\-idowed margra- vine, the aunt of the king, married the Count Hoditz. What the king's aunt accomplished, might be po^ible to the king's sister." " Silence, silence ! " murmured Fred- erick von Trenck; "your wild words cloud my understanding like the breath of opium ; they make me mad, drunk. You stand near me like the tempter, showing to my bewildered eyes more than all the treasures of this world, and saying, ' All these things will I give thee ; ' but alas ! I am not the Messiah. I have not the courage to cast down and trample under foot your devilish temptations. 'Mj whole soul springs out to meet them, and shouts for joy. Oh, sir, what have you done ? You have aroused my youth, my ambiticm, my passion ; you have filled my veins with fire, and I am drunk with the sweet but deadly poison you have poured into my ears." " I have assured you that I will be your father. I will lead yon, and ai 36 BERLIN AND SANS-SOUCI; OR, the right moment I "will point out the obstacles against which your inexperi- enced feet might stumble," said P611- nitz. The stony-hearted and egotistical old courtier felt not the least pity for this poor young man into whose ear, as Trenck had well said, he was pour- ing this fatal poison. Frederick von Trenck, the favorite of the king, was nothing more to him than a ladder by which he hoj^ed to mount. He took the arm of the young officer and en- deavored to soothe him with cool and moderate words, exhorting him to be quiet and reasonable. They turned their steps toward the castle, in order to pay their respects to the queen- mother. The hour of audience was over, and the two gentlemen lounged arm in arm down the street. "Let us go toward the palace," said PoUnitz. " I think we will behold a rare spectacle, a crowd of old wigs who have disguised themselves as savans. To-day, the first sitting of the Academy of Arts and Sciences takes place, and the celebrated President Maupertius will open the meeting in the name of the king. This is exactly the time for the renowned worthies to leave the cas- tle. Let us go and witness this comical show." The two gentlemen found it impossi- ble to carry out their plans. A mighty crowd of men advanced upon them at this moment, and compelled them to stand still. Every face in the vast as- semblage was expectant. Certainly some rare exhibition was to be seen in the circle which the crowd had left open in their midst. There was merry laughing and jesting and questioning amongst each other, as to what all this could mean, and what proclamation that could be which the drummer had just read in the palace garden. " It will l)e repeated here in a mo- ment," said a voice from the crowd, which increased every moment, and in . whose fierce waves Pollnitz and Trenck were forcibly swallowed up. Pressed, pushed onwai'd by powerful arms, re- sistance utterly in vain, the two com- panions found themselves at the same moment in the open space just as the drummer broke into the circle, and, playing his drumsticks with powerful and zealous hands, he called the crowd to order. The drum overpowered the wild out- cries and rude laughter of the vast as- sembly, and soon silenced them com- pletely. Every man held his breath to hear what the public crier, who had spoken so much to the purpose by his drum, had now to declare by word oi mouth. He drew from his pocket a large document sealed with the state seal, and took advantage of the general quiet to read the formal introductory to all such proclamations : " We, Fred- erick, king of Prussia," etc., etc. On coming to the thrcme, Frederick had abolished all that long and absurd list of titles and dignities which had heretofore adorned the royal declara- tions. Even that highest of all titles, " King by the grace of God," had Fred erick the Second set aside. He de- clared that, in saying King of Prussia, all was said. His father had called himself King of Prussia, by the grace of God ; he, therefore, would call himself simply the King of Prussia, and if ho did not boast of God's grace, it was be- cause he would prove by deeds, not words, that he possessed it. After this little digression we will return to our drummer, who now began to read, or rather to cry out the command of the king. ""We, Frederick, king of Prussia, order and command that no one of our subjects shall, under any circumstances, lend gold to our master of ceiemonies, whom we have again taken into om service, or assist him in any way tf FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FRIENDS. 37 ^jrrow money. Wlioever, therefore, all all, in despite of this proclamation, lend money to said Baron Pollnitz, must bear the consequences ; they shall make no demand for repayment, and the case shall not be considered in court. Who- soever shall disobey this command, shall pay a fine of fifty thalers, or suf- fer fifteen days' imprisonment." A wild shout of laughter from the entire assembly was the reply to this proclamation, in which the worldly- wise Pollnitz joined heartily, while his young companion had not the courage to raise his eyes from the ground. "The old courtier will burst with rage," said a gay voice fi'om the crowd. " He is a desperate borrower," cried another. " He has richly deserved this public shame and humiliation from the king," said another. " And you call this a humiliation, a merited punishment ! " cried Poll- nitz. " Wliy, my good friends, can you not see that this is an honor which the king shows to his old and faithful servant? Do you not know that by this proclamation he places Baron Poll- nitz exactly on the same footing with the princes of the blood, wdth the prince royal ? " " How is that ? explain that to us," cried a hundred voices in a breath. "Well, it is very simple. Has not the king recently renewed the law which forbids, under pain of heavy punishment, the princes of the blood to borrow money ? Is not this law print- ed in our journals, and made public in our collections of laws ? " " Yes, yes ! so it is," said many voices simultaneously. "Well, certamly, our exalted sover- eign, who loves his royal brothers so warmly, would not have cast shame upon their honor. Certainly he would not have wished to humiliate them. and has not done so. The king, as you must now plainly perceive, has acted toward Baron Pollnitz precisely as he has done to his brothers." "And that is, without doubt, a great honor for him," cried many voices. No one guessed the name of the speaker who was so fortunately at hand to de- fend the honor of the master of ceremo- nies. A general murmur of applause was heard, and even the public crier stood still to listen to the eloquent unknown speaker, and forgot for a while to hurry off to the next street- corner and proclaim the royal man- date. "Besides, this law is '•sans conse- qtience,^ as we are accustomed to say," said Pollnitz. "Who would not, in spite of the law, lend our princes gold if they had need of it ? And who has right to take offence if the state refuses to pay the debts which the princes make as private persons? The baron occupies precisely the same position. The king, who has honored the newly- returned baron with two highly impor- tant trusts, master of ceremonies and master of the robes, will frighten his rath- er lavish old friend from making debts. He chooses, therefore, the same means by which he seeks to restrain his royal brothers, and forbids all persons to lend gold to Pollnitz: as he cannot well place this edict in the laws of the land, he is obliged to make it known by the di'ummer. And now," said the speaker, who saw plainly the favorable impres- sion which his little oration had made — " and now, best of friends, I pray you to make way and allow me to pass through the crowd ; I must go at once to the palace to thank his majesty for the si^ecial grace and distinction which he has showered upon me to-day. I, myself, am Baron Pollnitz ! " An outcry of amazement burst from the lips of hund^ds, and all who stood near Pollnitz stepped aside reveren- 38 BERLIN AND SANS-SOUCI; OR, tially, in order to give place to the distinguished gentleman who was treated by the king exactly as if he were a prince of the biood. Pollnitz stepped with a friendly smile through the narrow way thus opened for him, and greeted, with his cool, impertinent manner those who respectfully stood back. " I think I have given the king a Roland for his Oliver," he said to him- self. "I have broken the point from the arrow which was aimed at me, and it glanced from my bosom without wounding me. Public opinion will be on my side from this time, and that which was intended for my shame has crowned me with honor. It was, nevertheless, a harsh and cruel act, for which I will one day hold a reck- oning with Frederick, Ah, King Frederick ! King Frederick ! I shall not forget, and I will have my revenge ; my cards are also well arranged, and I hold important trumps. I will wait yet a little while upon our love-lorn shepherd, this innocent and tender Trenck, who is in a dangerous way about the little princess." Pollnitz waited for Trenck, who had with difficulty forced his way through the crowd and hastened after him. CHAPTER VII. THE FIRST INTERVIEW. The ball at the palace was opened. The two queens and the princesses had just entered the great saloon, in order to receive the respectful greetings of the ladies of the court ; while the king, in an adjoining room, was surrounded by the gentlemen. A glittering circle of lovely women, adorned with dia- monds and other rich gems, stood on each side of the room, each one pa- tiently awaiting the moment when the queens should pass before her, and she might have the honor of bowing almost to the earth under the glance of the royal eye. According to etiquette, Queen Eliz- abeth Christine, who, notwithstand- ing her modest and retired existence, was the reigning sovereign, should have made the grand tour alone, and re- ceived the first congratulations of the court ; but this unhappy, shrinking wo- man, had never found the courage to assume the rights or privileges which belonged to her as wife of the king. She who was denied the highest and holiest of all distinctions, the first place in the heart of her husband, cared nothing for these pitiful and outward advantages. Elizabeth had to-day, as usual, with a soft smile, given prece- dence to the queen-mother, Sophia Dorothea, who was ever thirsting to show that she held the first jDlace at her son's court, and who, delighted to sur- round herself with all the accessories of pomp and power, was ever ready to use her prerogative. With a proud and erect head, and an almost con- temptuous smile, she walked slowly around the circle of high-born dames, who bowed humbly before this repre- sentative of royalty. Behind her came the reigning queen, between the two princesses, who now and then gave special and cordial greetings to their personal friends as they passed. Eliza- beth Christine saw this, and sighed bitterly. She had no personal friend to grace with a loving greeting. No man saw any thing else in her than a sovereign by sufferance, a woman sans consequence, a powerless queen and un- beloved wife. She had never had a fiiend into whose sympathetic and silent bosom she could jjour out her griefs. She was alone, so entirely alone and lonely, that the heavy sighs and complaints dwelling in her heart were ever reverberating in her ears because FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FRIENDS. 39 of the surrounding silence. And now, as she made the grand tour with the two princesses, no one seemed to see Jer; she was regarded as the statue of a queen, riclily dressed and decked with costly lace and jewels, but only a picture : yet this picture had a soul and a heai-t of fire — it was a woman, a wife, who loved and who endured. Suddenly she trembled ; a light, like the glory of sunshine, flashed in her eyes, and a soft rosy blush spread over her fair cheek. The king had entered the room ; yes, he was there in all his beau- ty, his majesty, his power; Elizabeth felt that the world was bright, her blood was rushing madly through her veins, her heart was beating as stormily as that of an impassioned young girL Oh, it might be that the eye of the king — that glowing, wondrous eye — might even by accident rest upon her; it might be that Frederick would be touched by her patient endurance, her silent resignation, and give her one friendly word. She had been four years a queen, for four years this title had been a crown of thorns ; during all this weary time her husband had not vouchsafed to her poor heart, sick unto death, one single sympathetic word, one afiectionate glance ; he sat by her side at table during the court festivals ; he had from time to time, at the balls and masquerades, opened the dance with her; never, however, since that day on which he had printed the fii'st kiss upon her lips, never had he spoken to her ; since that moment she was to him the picture of a queen, the empty form of a woman.* But Queen Eliza- * The king never .spoke to his wife, but his manner toward her was considerate and respectful; n ) one dared to tail in the slightest mark of courtly observance toward Elizabeth — this the king sternly exacted. Only once did the king address her. During the seventh year of their marriage, the queen, by an unhappy accident, had seriously in- jured her foot; tliis was a short time before her birthday, which event was always celeltnited with great pomp and ceremony, the king honoring the beth would not despair. Hope was her motto, A day might come when he would speak to her, when he would forget that she had been forced upon him as his wife, a day when his heart might be touched by her grief, her silence and tearless love. Every meet- ing with Frederick was to this poor queen a time of hope, of joyful expecta- tion ; this alone sustained her, this gave her strength silently, even smilingly, to draw her royal robe over her bleeding heart. And now the king drew near, sur- rounded by the princesses and the queen-mother, to whom he gave hia hand with an expression of reverence and filial love. He then bowed silent- ly and indifferently to his wife, and gave a merry greeting to his two sisters. "Ladies," said he, in a full, rich voice, " allow me to present to you and my court my brother, the Prince Au- gustus William ; he is now placed before you in a new and more distinguished light," He took the hand of his broth- er and led him to the queen-mother. "I introduce your son to you; he will be from this day onward, if it so please you, also your grandson." '• How is that your majesty ? I con- fess you have brought about many seem- ingly impossible things ; but I think it is beyond your power to make Augus- tus at the same time both my son and my grandson." " Ah, mother, if I make him my son, will he not be, of necessity, your grand- feU with his presence. On this occasion he came as usual, but in place of the distant and silent bow with which he usually greeted her, he drew near, gave her his hand, and said with kindly sympathy, " I sincerely hope that youi- majesty has recovered firom your accident." A general surprise was pic- tured in the faces of all present — but the poor queen was so overcome by this unexpected happiness, that she liad no power to reply, she bowed silently. The king frowned and turned from her. Since Ihat day, the happiness of which she had bought with an injured foot, the king h.-id not spoken t« her. 10 BERLIN AND SANS-SOUCI; OR, son ? I appoint him my successor ; in so doing, I declare him my son. Em- brace him, therefore, your majesty, and be the first to greet him by his new ti- tle. Embrace the Prince of Prussia, my successor." " I obey," said the queen, " I obey," and she cast her arms affectionately around her son. "I pray God that this title of 'Prince of Prussia,' which it has pleased your majesty to lend him, may be long and honorably worn." The prince bowed low before his mother, who tenderly kissed his brow, then whispered, " Oh, mother, pray ra- ther that God may soon release me from this burden." " How ! " cried the queen, threaten- ingly, " you have then a strong desire to be king? Has your vaulting ambition made you forget that to wish to be king is, at the same tiine, to wish the death of your brother?" The prince smiled sadly. " Mother, I would lay aside this rank of Prince of Prussia, not because I wish to mount the throne, but I would fain lie down in the cold and quiet grave." "Are you always so sad, so hopeless, my son — even now, upon this day of proud distinction for you ? To-day you take your place as Prince of Prussia." "Yes, your majesty, to-day I am crowned with honor," said he, bitter- ly. " This is also the anniversary of my betrothal." Augustus turned and drew near to the king, who seized his hand and led him to his wife and the young prin- cesses, saying with a loud voice, " Con- gratulate the Pi-ince of Prussia, ladies." He then beckoned to some of his gen- erals, and drew back with them to the window. As he passed the queen, his eye rested upon her for a moment with an expression of sympathy and curiosity; he observed her with the searching glance of a physician, who sinks the probe mto the l)leeding wound, in order to know its depth and danger. The queen understood his purpose. That piercing glance was a warning ; it gave her courage, self-possession, and proud resignation. Her husband has spoken to her with his eyes; that must ever be a consolation, a painful but sweet joy. She controlled herself so far as to give her hand to the prince with a cordial smile. " You are most welcome in your dou- ble character," she said, in a voice loud enough to be heard by the king and all around her. " Until co-day you have been my beloved brother ; and from this time will you be to me, as also to my husband, a dear son. By the de- crees of Providence a son has been de- nied me ; I accept you, therefore, joy- fully, and receive you as my son and brother." A profound silence followed these words ; here and there in the crowd, slight and derisive smiles were seen, and a few whispered and significant words were uttered. The queen had now received the last and severest blow; in the fulness and maturity of her beau- ty she had been placed before the com-t as unworthy or incapable of giving a successor to the throne ; but she still wished to save appearances ; she would, if possible, make the world believe that the decree of Providence alone denied to her a mother's honors. She had the cruel courage to conceal the truth by prevarication. The watchful eyes oi the court had long since discovered the mystery of this royal marriage ; they had long known that the queen was not the wife of Frederick ; her words, therefore, pro- duced contemptuous surprise. Elizabeth cared foi iaone of these thmgs. She looked towai'd her hus- band, whose eyes were fixed upon her she would read in his countenance V FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FRIENDS. 41 le were pleased with her words. A smile played upon the lips of the king, and he bowed his head almost imper- ceptibly as a greeting to his wife. A golden ray of sunlight seemed to play upon her face, content was writ- ten in her eyes ; twice to-day her glance had met her husband's, and both times his eyes had spoken. Elizabeth was happier than she had been for many days ; she laughed and jested with the ladies, and conversed gayly over the great event of the evening — the first appearance of the Signora Barbarina. The princesses, also, conversed uncer- imoniously with the ladies near them. A cloud darkened the usually clear brow of the Princess Amelia, and she seemed to be in a nervous and highly excited state. At this moment the master of cere- monies, PoUnitz, drew near, with Count Tessin, the Swedish ambassador. The princess immediately assumed so scorn- ful an expression, that even Pollnitz scarcely found courage to present Count Tessin. " Ah ! you come from Sweden," said Amelia, immediately after the presen- tation. " Sweden is a dark and gloomy country, and you have indeed done well to save yourself, by taking refuge in our gay and sunny clime." The count was evidently wounded. " Your royal highness calls this a ref- uge," said he; "you must, then, think those to be pitied who dwell in my fatherland ? " " I do not feel it necessary to confide my views on that subject to Count Tes- sin," said Amelia, with a short, rude laugh. "Yes, sister, it is necessary," said Ulrica with a magical smile, " you must justify yourself to the count, for you lave cast contempt upon his country." "Ah ! your higliness is pleased to think better of my fatherland," said Tessin, bowing low to Ulrica. "It is true, Sweden is rich in beauty, and no- where is nature more romantic or more lovely. The Swede§ love their country passionately, and, like the Swiss, they die of homesickness when banished from her borders. They languish and pine away if one is cruel enough to think lightly of their birthplace." " Well, sir, I commit this cruelty," cried Amelia, " and yet I scarcely think you will languish and pine away on that account." " Dear sister, I think you are out of temper to-day," said Ulrica, softly. " And you are wise to remind me of it in this courtly style," said Amelia ; " have you taken the role of governess for my benefit to-day ? " Ulrica shrugged her shoulders and turned again to the count, who was watching the young Amelia with a mix- ture of astonishment and anger. She had been represented at the Swedish court as a model of gentleness, amia bility, and grace : he found her rudo and contradictory, fitful and childish. The Princess Ulrica soon led the tnoughts of the count in another direc- tion, and managed to retain him at her side by her piquant and intellectual conversation ; she brought every power of her mind into action ; she was gra- cious in the extreme ; she overcame her jwoud nature, and assumed a winning gentleness; in short, she flattered the ambassador with such delicate refine- ment, that he swallowed the magical food offered to his vanity, without sus- pecting he was victimized. Neither the princessn or the count seemed any longer to remember Amelia, who still stood near them with a low- ering visage. Pollnitz made use of this opportunity to draw near with his young protege^ Frederick von Trenck, and present him to the princess, who immediately assumed a gay and laugh- ing expression; she wished to give the ambassador a new proof of her stormv 12 BERLIN AND SANS-SOUCI, OR, and fitful nature: she would humblg him by proving? that she was not harsh and rude to all thetvorld. She received the two gentlemen, therefore, with great cordiality, and laughed heartily over the adventure of the morning; she recounted to tbum, merrily and wittily, how and why she had thrown the sweet roses away. Amelia was now so lovely and so spirited to look upon, so radiant with youth, animation, and innocence, that the eyes of the poor young officer were dazzled and sought the floor ; com- pletely intoxicated and bewildered, he could not join in the conversation, ut- tering here and there only a trembling- monosyllable. This did not escape the cunning eye of the master of ceremonies. "I must withdraw," thought he ; "I will grant them a first tete-d-tete. I will observe them from a distance, and be able to decide if my plan succeed." Excusing himself upon the plea of duty, Pollnitz withdrew; he glided into a window and concealed himself behind the cur- tains, in order to watch the counte- nances of his two victims. Pollnitz had rightly judged. The necessity of taking part in the conversation with the prin- cess restored to the young officer his intellect and his courage, and, in the effort to overcome his timidity, he be- came too earnest, too impassioned. But the princess did not remark this ; she rejoiced in an opportunity to show the Swedish ambassador how amiable and gracious she could be to others, and thus make him more sensible of her rudeness to himself; he should see and confess that she could be winning and attractive when it suited her purpose. The count observed her narrowly, even while conversing with Ulrica ; he saw her ready smile, her beaming eye, her perhaps rather demonstrative cordiali- ty to the young officer. " She is change- able and coquettish," he said to himself, while still carrying on his conversation with the talented, refined, and thorough ly maidenly Princess Ulrica, The great, and as we have said, some, what too strongly-marked kindliness of Amelia, added fuel to the jjassion of Trenck ; he became more daring. " I have to implore your highness for a special grace," said he in a suppressed voice. " Speak on," said she, feeling at that moment an inexplicable emoticm, which made her heart beat high, and ban- ished the blood from her cheeks, " I have dared to preserve one of the roses which you threw into the garden, it was a mad theft, I know it, but I was under the power of enchantment ; I could not resist, and would at that moment have paid for the little blos- som with my heart's blood. Oh, if your royal highness could have seen, when I entered my room and closed the door, with what rapture I regarded my treasure, how I knelt before it and worshipped it, scarcely daring to touch it with my lips ! it recalled to me a lovely fairy tale of my childhood," "How could a simple rose recall a fairy tale ? " said Amelia. " It is a legend of a poor shepherd- boy, who, lonely and neglected, had fallen asleep under a tree near the highway. Before sleeping, he had prayed to God to have pity upon him ; to fill this great and painful void in his heart, or to send His minister. Death, to his release. While sleeping, he had a beautiful dream. He thought he saw the heavens open, and an angel of en- chanting grace and beauty fioated toward him. Her eyes glowed like two of the brightest stars. ' You shall be no longer lonely,' she whispered ; ' my image shall abide ever in your he.irt, and strengthen and stimulate you to all things good and beautiful.' While say- ing this, she laid a wondrous rose upon his eyes, and, fioating off", soon disap peared in the clouds. The poor sheu FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FRIENDS. 43 aerd-boy awoke, and was enraptured with wliat he supposed had been a wild dream. But lo ! there was the rose, and with unspeakable joy he pressed it to his heart. He thanked God for this sweet flower, which proved to him that the angel was no dream, but a reality. The rose, the visible emblem of his good angel, was the joy and comfort of bis life, and he wore it ever in his heart. — I thought of this fairy tale, princess, as I looked upon my rose, but I felt immediately that I dared not call it mine without the consent of your highness. Decide, therefore; dare I keep this rose ? " Amelia did not reply. She had lis- tened with a strange embarrassment to this impassioned tale. The world — all, was forgotten ; she was no longer a princess, she was but a simple young girl, who listened for the first time to words of burning passion, and whose heart trembled with sweet alarm. " Princess, dare I guard this rose ? " repeated Frederick, with a trembling voice. She looked at him; their eyes met ; the young maiden trembled, but the man stood erect. He felt strong, proud, and a conqueror; his glance was like the eagle's, when about to seize a lamb and bear it to his eyrie. " He goes too far ; truly, he goes too far," whispered PoUnitz, who had seen all, and from their glances and move- ments had almost read their thoughts and words. " I must briiag this tete-d- tete to an end, and I shall do so in a profitable manner." " Dare I keep this rose ? " said Freder- ick von Trenck a third time. Amelia turned her head aside and whispered, " Keep it," Trenck would have answered, but in that moment a hand was laid upon his p.rm, and Polluitz stood near him, " Prudence," whispered he anxiously. " Do you not see that you are observed ? You will make of your insane and trea- sonable passion a fairy tale for the whole court." Amelia uttered a slight cry, and looked anxiously at Pollnitz. She had heard his whispered words, and the sly baron intended that she should. "Will your royal highness dismiss this madman," whispered he, " and al- low me to awake his sleeping reason?" " Go, Herr von Trenck," said she, lightly. Pollnitz took the arm of the young officer and led him off, saying to him- self, with a chuckle : " That was a good stroke, and I feel that I shall succeed ; I have betrayed his passion to her, and forced myself into their confidence. I shall soon be employed as Love's mes- senger, and that is ever with princesses a profitable service. Ah, King Freder- ick, liing Frederick, you have made it impossible for me to borrow money ! Well, I shall not find that necessary ; my hands shall be filled from the royal treasures. When the casket of the princess is empty, the king must of course replenish it," And the baron laughed too loudly for a master of cer- emonies. CHAPTER VIII. SIGNOP.A BARBARINA. The princess regarded their retreat- ing figures with dreamy eyes. Then, yielding to an unconquerable desire to be alone, to give herself up to undis- turbed thought, she- was about to with- draw ; but the Princess Ulrica, who thought it necessary that the Swedish ambassador should have another oppor- tunity of observing the proud and sul- len temper of her sister, called hei back. "Remain a moment longer, Amelia," said the princess. ''You shall decide }4 BERLIN AND SANS-SOUCI ; OK, between Court Tessin and myself. "Will you accept my sister as vnnpire, count ? " " Without doubt," said the count. "I should be greatly honored if the princess will be so gracious. Perhaps I may be more fortunate on this occasion." " It appears to me," said Amelia, rudely interrupting him, " that ' fortu- nate ' and ' unfortunate ' are not terms ■which can be properly used in any connection between a princess of Prussia and yourself." Amelia then turned toward her sister and gave her a glance which plainly said : V/ell do I not play my role in masterly style ? Have I not hastened to follow your counsels ? " Speak, sister ; name the point which Count Tessin dares to contest with you." " Oh, the count is a man and a scholar, and has full right to differ," said Ulrica, graciously. " The question was a com- parison of Queen Elizabeth of England and Queen Christina of Sweden. I maintain that Christina had a stronger and more powerful intellect ; that she knew better how to conquer her spiilt, to master her womanly weaknesses ; that she was more thoroughly cultivat- ed, and studied philosophy and science, not as Elizabeth, for glitter and show, but because she had an inward thirst for knowledge. The count asserts that Elizabeth was better versed in state- craft, and a more amiable woman. Now, Amelia, to which of these two queens do you give the preference ? " " Oh, without doubt, to Queen Chris- tina of Sweden. This great woman was wise enough not to regard the crown of Sweden as a rare and precious gem ; she chose a simple life of obscu- rity and poverty in beautiful Italy, rather than a throne in cold and unfruit- ful Sweden. This act alone establishes her superiority. Yes, sister, you are right. Christina was much the greater woman, even because she scorned to be Queen of Sweden." So saying, Amelia bowed slightingly, and, turning aside, she summoned Ma- dame von Kleist, and commenced a merry chat with her. Count Tessin re- garded her with a dark and scornful glance, and pressed his lips tightly to- gether, as if to restrain his anger. " I beseech you, count," said Ulrica, in a low, soft voice , " not to be oifend- ed at the thoughtless words of my dear little sister. It is true, she is a little rude and resentful to-day ; but you will see — to-morrow, perhaps, will be one of her glorious sunny days, and you will perhaps find her irresistibly charming. Her moods are changea- ble, and for that reason we call her our little' April /ee.'" " Ah, the princess is, then, as uncer- tain as April ? " said the count, with a frosty smile. "More uncertain than Aj^ril," said Ulrica, sweetly. " But what would you, sir ? we all, brothers and sisters, are responsible for that. You must know that she is our favorite, and is al- w^ays indulged. I counsel you not to find fault with our little sister. Count Tessin ; that would be to bring an ac- cusation against us all. You have suf- fered to-day from a shower of her April moods ; to-morrow you may re- joice in the sunshine of. her favor." "I shall, however, be doubtful and anxious," said the ambassador, coolly ; " the April sun is sometimes accompa- nied by rain and storm, and these sud- den changes bring sickness and death." "Allow me to make one request," said Ulrica. " Let not the king guess that you have suffered from these April changes." " Certainly not ; and if your royal highness will graciously allow me to bask in the sunshine of your presence, I shall soon recover from the chilling effect of these April showers." " Well, I think we have played om parts admirably," said Ulrica to her- FREDERICK THE GREAT AXD HIS FRIENDS. 45 self, as slie found time, duiing the course of tbe evening, to meditate upon the events of the day. "Amelia will accomplish her purpose, and will not be Queen of Sweden. She would have it so, and I shall not reproach myself." Princess Ulrica leaned comfortably back in her arm-chair, and gave her at- tention to a play of Voltaire, which was now being performed. This rep- resentation took place in the small the- atre in the royal palace. There was no public theatre in Berlin, and the king justly pronounced the large opera- house unsuited to declamation. Fred- erick generally gave his undivided at- tention to the play, but this evening he was restless and impatient, and he ac- corded less applause to this piquant and witty drama of his favorite author than he was wont to do. The king was impatient, because the king was waiting. He had so far restrained all outward expression of his impatient curiosity ; the French play had not commenced one moment earlier than usual. Frederick had, according to custom, gone behind the scenes, to say a few friendly and encouraging words to the performers, to call their attention to his favorite passages, and exhort them to be truly eloquent in their reci- tations. And now the king waited; ne felt feverishly impatient to see and judge for himself this capricious beau- ty, this world-renowned artiste, this SignoraBarbarina, whose rare loveliness and grace enchanted and bewildered all who looked upon her. At length the curtain fell. In a few moments he would see the Barbarina dance her celebrated solo. A breath- less stillness reigned throughout the as- sembly ; every eye was fixed upon the curtain. The bell sounded, the curtain flew up, and a lovely landscape met the eye : in the background a village church, rose-bushes in rich bloom, and shady trees on every side ; the declining sun gilded the summit of the mountain, against the base of which the little vil- lage nestled. The distant sound of the evening bell was calling the simple cot- tagers to "Ave Maria." It was an en- chanting picture of innocence and peace ; in striking ccmtrast to this court- ly assembly, glittering with gems and starry orders — a startling opposite to that sweet pure idyl. And now this select circle seemed agitated as by an electric shock. There, upon the stage, floated the Signora Barbarina. The king raised himself involuntari- ly a little higher in his arm-chair, in or- der to examine the signora more close- ly; he leaned back, however, ashamed of his impatience, and a light cloud was on his brow; he felt himself op- pressed and overcome by this magical beauty. He who had looked death in the face without emotion, who had seen the deadly cannon-balls falling thickly around him without a trembling of the eyelids, now felt a presentiment of dan- ger, and shrank from it. Barbarina was indeed lovely, irresist- ably lovely, in her ravishing costume of shepherdess ; her dress was of crim- son satin, her black velvet bodice was fastened over her voluptuous bosom by rich golden cords, finished off by tassels glittermg with diamonds, A wreath of crimson roses adorned her hair, which feU. in graceful ringlets about her wondrous brow, and formed a rich frame around her pure, oval face. The dark incarnate of her full, ripe lip contrasted richly with the light, rosy blush of her fair, smooth cheek. Bar- barina's smile was a promise of lovr and bliss ; and, when those great fierj eyes looked at you earnestly, there was such an intense glow, such a de|jth of power and passion in their rays, you could not but feel that there was dan- ger in her love as in her scorn. To-day, she would neither threaten nor inspire; she was only a smiling, u BERLIN AND SANS-SOUCI ; OR, joyous, simple peasant - girl, wbo bad returned with joy to her native village, and whose rapture found expression in the gay and graceful mazes of the dance. She floated here and there, like a wood-nymph, smiling, happy, careless, wonderful to look upon in her loveliness and beauty, but more won- derful still in her art. Simplicity and grace marked every movement; there seemed no difficulties in her path — to dance was her happiness. The dance was at an end. Barbarina, breathless, glowing, smiling, bowed low. Then all was still ; no hand was moved, no applause greeted her. Her great burning eyes wandered threaten- ingly and questioningly over the sa- loon ; then, raising her lovely head proudly, she stepped back. The curtain fell, and now all eyes were fixed upon the king, in whose face the courtiers expected to read the impression which the signora had made upon him ; but the countenance of the king told nothing; he was quiet and thoughtful, his brow was stern, and his lips compressed. The courtiers con- cluded that he was disappointed, and began at once to find fault, and make disparaging remarks. Frederick did not regard them. At this moment he was not a king, he was only a man — a man who, in silent rapture, had gazed upon this wondrous combination of grace and beauty. The king was a hero, but he trembled before this wo- man, and a sort of terror laid hold upon him. The curtain rose, and the second act of the drama began ; no one looked at the stage ; after this living, breathing, impersonation of a simple story, a spo- ken drama seemed oppressive. Every one rejoiced when the second act was at an end. The curtain would soon rise for Barbarina. But this did not occur ; there was a long delay; there Mas eager expecta- tion ; the curtain did not rise ; the bell did not ring. At last, Baron Swai-tz crossed the stage and drew near to the king. " Sire,'' said he, " the Signora Bar- barina declares she will not dance again; she is exhausted by grief and anxiety, and fatigued by her journey." " Go and say to her that I command her to dance," said Frederick, who felt himself once more a king, and rejoiced in his power over this enchantress, who almost held him in her toils. Baron Swartz hastened behind the scenes, but soon returned, somewhat cast down. " Sire, the signora affirms that she will not dance, and that the king has no power to compel her. She dances to please herself." " Ah ! that is a menace," said the king, threateningly; and without fur- ther speech he stepped upon the stage, followed by Baron Swartz. " Where is this person ? " said the king. " She is in her own room, yonr ma- jesty ; shall I call her ? " " No, I will go to her. Show me the way." The baron stepped forward, and Frederick endeavored to collect him- self and assume a cool and grave bear- ing. " Sire, this is the chamber of the Signora Barbarina." " Open the door." But before the baron had time to obey the command, the imjiatient hand of the king had opened the door, and he had entered tl e room. CHAPTER IX rHE KING AND BAKBAKUSA. Barbarina was resting, half reclin- ing, and wholly abstracted, upon a small crimson divan ; her rounded arms FUEDERICK THE GREAT AXD HIS FKIENDS. 47 were u^os^3ed over her breast. She fixed her blazing, glowing eyes upon the in- truders, and seemed petrified, in. her stubborn immobility, her determined silence. She had the glance of a pan- ther who has prepared herself for death, or to slay her enemy. The king stood a moment quiet and waiting, but Barbarina did not move. Baron Swartz, alarmed by her contempt- uous and disrespectful bearing, drew near, in order to say that the king had vouchsafed to visit her, but Frederick motioned him to withdraw ; and, in or- der that Barbarina might not under- stand him, he told him in German to leave the room and await him in the corridor. " I do not wish the signora to know that I am the king," said he. As the baron withdrew, Frederick said to him, " Leave the door open." Barbarina w^as motionless, only her large black eyes wandered questioning- ly from one to the other ; she sought to read the meaning of their words, not one of which she understood ; but her features expressed no anxiety, no dis- quiet ; she did not look like a culprit or a rebel ; she had rather the air of a stern queen, withholding her royal fa- vor. The king drew near her. Her eyes were fixed upon him with inex- pressible, earnest calm; and this cool indiflference, so rarely seen by a king, embarrassed Frederick, and at the same time intoxicated him. "You are, then, really determined not to dance again ? " inquired the king. " Fully determined," said she, in a rich and sonorous voice. " Beware ! beware ! " said he ; but he could not assume that threatening tone which he wished. "The king may perhaps compel you." " Compel me ! me, the Barbarina ! " said she, with a mocking laugh, and disclosing two rows of pearly teeth. " And how can the king compel me to dance ? " "You must be convinced that he has some power over you, since he brought you here against your will." " Yes, that is true," said she, raising herself up proudly; "he brought me here by force ; he has acted like a bar- barian, a cold-blooded tyrant I " " Signora," said Frederick menacing- ly, " one does not speak in this manner of kings." " And why not ? " she said, passion- ately. " What is your king to me ? What claim has he upon my love, upon my consideration, or even my obedi- ence ? What has he done for me, that I should regard him otherwise than as a tyrant ? What is he to me ? I am my- self a queen ; yes, and believe me, a proud and an obstinate one ! AVho and what is this king, whom I do not know, whom I have never seen, who has forgotten that I am a woman, yes, forgotten that he is a man, though he bears the empty title of a king ? A truo king is always and only a gallant cava- lier ui his conduct to women. If he fails in this, he is contemptible and despised." " How I you despise the king ? " said Frederick, who really enjoyed this un- accustomed scene. " Yes, I despise him ! yes, I hate him ! " cried the Barbarina, with a wild and stormy outbreak of her southern nature. " I no longer pray to God for my own happiness ; that this cruel king has de- stroyed. I pray to God for revenge ; yes, for vengeance upon this man, who has no heart, and who tramples the hearts of others under his feet. And God will help me. I shall revenge myself on this man. I have sworn it — I will keep my word 1 Go, sir, and tell this to your king ; tell him to beware of Bar- barina. Greater, bolder, and more mag- nanimous than he, I warn him! — Cunningly, slyly, unwarned, by night I 48 BERLIN AND SANS-SOUCI; OR, was fallen upon by spies, and dragged like a culprit to Berlin." The king had no wish to put an end to this piquant scene ; he was only ac- customed to the voice of praise and of applause ; it was a novelty, and there- fore agreeable to be so energetically railed at and abused. "Do you not fear that the king will be angry when I repeat your words ? " "Fear! What more can your king do, that I should fear him ? Yes, he is a king ; but am not I a queen ? This paltry kingdom is but a small portion of the world, which is mine, wholly mine ; it belongs to me, as it belongs to the eagle who spreads her proud wings and looks down upon her vast do- mains ; lie has millions in his treasury, but they are pressed from the pockets of his poor subjects ; he requii-es many agents to collect this gold, and his peo- ple give it grudgingly, but my subjects bring their tribute joyfully and lay it at my feet with loving words* Look you ! look at these two little feet : they are my assessors ; they collect the taxes from my people, and all the dwellers in Europe are mine. These are my agents, they bring me in millions of gold; they are also my avengers, by their aid I shall revenge myself on your barbaric king." She leaned back upon the pillows and breathed audibl}-, exhausted by her wild passion. The king looked at her with wonder. She was to him a rare and precious work of art, something to be studied and worshipped. Her alluring beauty, her impetuous, uncontrolled passions, her bold - sincerity, were all attractions, and he felt himself under the spell of her enchantments. Let her rail and swear to be revenged on the barbarian. The king heard her not ; a simple gentleman stood before her; a man who felt that Barbarina was right, and who confessed to himself that the kins; had forgotten, in her rude seizure, that the Barbarina was a woman — for- gotten that he, in all his relations with women, should be only a cavalier. " Yes, yes," said Barbarina, and an expression of triumph was painted on her lips — " yes, my little feet will be my avengers. The king will never more see them dance — never more; they have cost him thousands of gold; ))e- cause of them he is at variance with the noble Republic of Venice, Well, he has seen them for the last time Ah ! it is a light thing to subdue a province, but impossible to conquer a woman and an artiste who is resolved not to surren- der." Frederick smiled at these proud words, '■ So you will not dance before the king, and yet you have danced for him this evening ? " "Yes," said she, raising her head proudly, " I have proved to him that I am an artiste ; only when he feels that, will it pain him never again to see me exercise my art." " That is, indeed, refined reasoning," said the king. " You danced, then, in order to make the king thirst anew for this intoxicating draught, and then deny him? Truly, one must be an Italian to conceive this plan." " I am an Italian, and woe to me that I am ! " A storm of tears gushed from here yes, but in a moment, as if scorning her own weakness, she drove them back into her heart. " Poor Ital- ian," she said, in a soft, low tone — " poor child of the South, what are you doing in tbis cold North, among these frosty hearts whose icy smiles petrify art and beauty ? Ah ! to think that even the Barbarina could not melt the ice-rind from their pitiful souls; to think that she disijlayed before them all the power and grace of her art, and they looked on with motionless hands and silent lips ! Ah ! this humiliation would have killed me in Italy, because FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FRIENDS. 49 I love my people, and they understand md appreciate all that is rare and beau- tiful. My heart burns with scorn and ?ontempt for these torpid Berliners." "I understand you now," said the lang; " you heard no bravos, you were not applauded; therefore you are an- i?ry ? " " I laugh at it ! " said she, looking fiercely at the king. " Do you not know sir, that this applause, these bravos, are to the artiste as the sound of the trumpet to the gallant war-horse, they invigo- rate and inspire, and swell the heart with strength and courage ? When the artiste stands upon the stage, the saloon before him is his heaven, and there his judges sit, to bestow eternal happiness or eter- nal condemnation ; to crown him with immortal fame, or cover him with shame and confusion. Now, sir, that I have explained to you that the stage saloon is our heaven, and the spectators are our judges, you will understand that these bravos are to us as the music of the spheres." " Yes, I comprehend," said the king, smiling ; " but you must be indulgent ; in this theatre etiquette forbids ap- plause. You have danced to-day before an invited audience, who pay nothing, and therefore have not the right to blame or praise ; no one dare applaud — no one but the king." " Ha ! and this rude man did not ap- plaud I " cried she, showing her small teeth, and raising her hand threaten- jigly toward heaven. " Perhaps he was motionless and drunk from rapture," said the king, bowing gracefully ; " when he sees you dance again, he will have more control over himself, and will, perhaps, applaud you heartily." '' Perhaps ? " cried she. " I shall not expose myself to this ' perhaps.' I will dance no more. My foot is sore, and your king cannot force me to dance." " No, he cannot force you, but you 4 will do it willingly ; you will danco for him again this evening, of your own free will." Barbarina answered by one burst of wild, demoniac laughter, expressive of her scorn and her resentment, " You will dance again this evening," repeated Frederick, and his keen eye gazed steadily into that of Barbarina, who, though weeping bitterly, shook her lovely head, and gave him back bravely glance for glance. " You will dance, Barbarina, because, if you do not, you are lost. I do not mean by this that you are lost because the king will punish you for your obstinacy. The king is no Bluebeard ; he neither murders women nor confines them in un- derground prisons ; he has no torture- chambers ready for you ; for the King of Prussia, whom you hate so fiercely, has abolished the torture throughout his kingdom — the torture which still flouiishes luxuriantly by the side of oranges and myrtles in your beautiful Italy. No, signora, the king wUl not punish you if you persist in your obsti- nacy; he will only send you away, that is all." " And that is my only wish, all that I ask of Fate." "You do not know yourself. You, who are an artiste, who are a lovely woman, who are ambitious, and look upon fame as worth striving for, you would not lose your power, trample under foot your ambition, see your rare beauty slighted, and your enchanting grace despised ? " " I cannot see why all these terrible things will come to pass if I refuse to dance again before your king." " I will explain to you, signora — listen. The king (however contemptuously you may think and speak of him) is still a man upon whom the eye* of all Europe are turned — that is to say," he added, with a gay smile and a graceful bow, " when his bold eye is not exactly fixed 50 BERLIN AND SANS-SOUCI; OR, upon them, signora. The voice of this king has some weight in your world, though, ar master, we will leave Berlin and seek a city where we shall be truly aonored." " I have found the city," said Eck- hof; " we will go to Halle. The wise men who have consecrated their lives to knowledge are best fitted to appre- ciate and treasure the true artiste ; we wiU unite with them, and our efforts will transform Halle into an Athens, where knowlerlge and art shall walk hand-in-hand in noble emulation." " Off, then, for Halle ! " said Freders- dorf, waving his hat in the air, but his voice was less firm, and his eye was troubled. " WiU the director, Schone- mein, consent ? " " Schonemein has resolved to go with us, provided we make no claim for sal- aries, but will share with him both gains and losses." "If the undertaking fails in Halle, we must starve, then," said a trembling voice. Eckhof said nothing ; he crossed the room to his writing-table, and took out a well-filled purse. " I do not say that we shall succeed in Halle, that is, suc- ceed as the merchants and Jews do ; we go as missionaries, resolved to bear him- ger and thirst, if need be, for the cause we love and believe in. Look, this purse contains what remains of my profits from the last two months and from my benefit lust night. It is all that I have; take it and divide it amongst you. It will, at least, suffice to support you all one month." "Will you accept this?" said Jo- seph, with glowing cheeks. " No, we will not accept it ; what we do we will do freely, and no man shall fetter us by his generosity or magna- nimity, not even Eckhof." Eckhof was radiant with joy. " Hear, now — I have another proposition to make. You have refused my offer for yourselves, but you dare not refuse it for your children ; take this money and divide it equally amongst your wives and children. With this gold you shall buy yourselves free for a while from vour families." RO BERLIN AND SANS^OUCI ; OR, After a long and eloquent persuasion, Eckhof s offer was accepted, and di- vided fairly. He looked on with a kindly smile. " I now stand exactly as I did when I resolved two years ago to be an actor. Before that I was an honest clerk ; from day to day I vegetated, and thanked God, when, after eight hours' hard work, I could enjoy a little fresh air and the evening sunshine, and declaim to the fields and groves my favorite lines from the great autliors. It is probable I should still have been a poor clerk and a dreamer, if my good genius had not stood by me and given me a powerful blow, which awakened me from dreaming to active life. The jus- tice of the peace, whose clerk I was, commanded me to serve behind his car- riage as a footman ; this aroused my anger and my self-respect, and I left him, determined rather to die of hun- ger than to submit to such humiliation. My good genius was again at hand, and gave me courage to follow the jjrompt- ings of my heart, and become an actor. He who will be great has the strength to achieve greatness. Let us go on- ward, then, with bold hearts." He gave his hand to his friends and dismissed them, warning them to prepare for their journey. " You are determined to go to Halle ? " said Fredersdorf, who had remained behind for the last greeting. " We will go to Halle ; it is the seat of the Muses, and belongs, therefore, to us." Joseph shook his head sadly. "I know Halle," said he. You call it the seat of the Muses. I know it only as the seat of pedantry. You will soon know and confess this. There is noth- ing more narrow-minded, jealous, arro- gant, and conceited than a Halle pro- fessor. He sees no merit in any thing but himself and a few old dusty Greeks and Ilomans, and even these are only fifreat because the professor of Halle has shown them the honor to explain and descant upon them. But, you are re- solved — I would go with you to prisoj and to death ; in short, I will follow you to Halle." " And now I am at last alone," said Eckhof; "now I must study my new role ; now stand by me, ye gods, and inspire me with your strength ; give me the right tone, the right emphasis to personate this rare and wonderful Hip- polytus, with which I hope to win the stern professors of Halle ! " Walking backward and forward, he began to declaim the proud and elo- quent verses of Corneille; he was so thoroughly absorbed that he did not hear the oft-repeated knock upon the door ; he did not even see that the door was softly opened, and the young Lu- pinus stood blushing upon the thresh- old. He stood still and listened with rapture to the pathetic words of the great actor ; and as Eckhof recited the glowing and innocent confession of love made by Hippolytus, a burning blush suffused the cheek of the young student, and his eyes were filled with tears. He overcame his emotion, and advanced to Eckhof, who was now standing before the glass, studying the attitude which would best accord with this passionate declaration. " Sir," said he, with a low and trem- bling voice, " pardon me for disturbing you. I was told that I should find Eckhof in this room, and it is most im- portant to me to see and consult with this great man. I know this is his dwelling ; be kind enough to tell me if he is within." " This is his home, truly, but ho is neither a great nor a wise man ; only and simply Eckhof the actor." "I did not ask your opinion of the distinguished man whom I honor, but only where I can find him." "Tell me first what you want of Eckhof.'- FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FRIENDS. 61 " Wliat I want of him, sir ? " said the fouth, thoughtfully ; " I scarcely know myself. There is a mystery in my soul which I cannot fathom. Eckhof has age, wisdom, and experience — perhaps he can enlighten me. I have faith in his eyes and in his silver beard, and I can say freely to him what I dare not say to any other." Eckhof laughed merrily. " As to his white beard, you will find that in his wardrobe; his wisdom you will find in the books of the authors, to whose great thoughts he has only given voice ; he is neither old, wise, nor experienced. In short — I, myself, am Eckhof." "You are Eckhof!" said Lupinus, turning deadly pale, and, stepping back a few paces, he stared with distended eyes at the actor, whose noble and in- tellectual face, glowing with youthful fire, was turned toward him. " I am Eckhof, and I hope you will forgive me for being a little younger, a little browner, and somewhat less wise than the great Cato, in which character you no doubt saw me last night. I dare hope that my confession will not shake your confidence in me; with my whole heart I beg that you will tell me how I can l)e useful to you, and what mystery you wish to have explained." '' No, no ! I cannot explain," cried the youth ; " forgive me for having dis- turbed you. I have notliing more to say." Confused and ashamed, Lupinus left the room. The actor gazed after him wonderingly, convinced that he had been closeted with a madman. With trembling heart, scarcely know- ing what he thought or did, the student reached his room and closed the door, and throwing himself upon his knees, he cried out in tones of anguish : " Oh, my God! I have seen Eckhof: he is young, he is glorious in beauty, un- happy that I am!" With his hands folded and still upon his knees, he gazed dreamily in the distance ; then spiing- ing up suddenly, his eyes glowing with energy and passion, he cried : " I must go, I must go ! I will return to Halle, to my books and my quiet room ; it is lonely, but there I am at peace; there the world and the voice of Eckhof can- not enter. I must forget this wild awakening of my youth ; my heart must sleep again and dream, and be buried at last under the dust of books. Un- happy that I am, I feel that the past is gone forever. I stand trembling on the borders of a new existence. I will go at once — perhaps there is yet time ; per- haps I may yet escape the wretchedness which threatens me. Oh ! in my books and studies I may forget all. I may no longer hear this voice, which is forever sounding in my enraptured ears, no longer see those fearful but wondrous eyes." With feverish haste and trembling hands he made up his little parcel. A few hours later the post-wagon rolled by Eckhof 's dwelling. A young man with pale, haggard face and tearful eyes gazed up at his windows. "Farewell, Eckhof," murmured he; "I flee from you, but may God bless you ! I go to Halle ; there I shall nevei see you, my heart shall never thrill at the sound of your eloquent voice." Lupinus leaned sadly back in the car- riage, comforting himself with the con- viction that he was safe ; but Fate was too strong for him, and the danger from which he so bravely fled, followed him speedily. CHAPTER Xn. SUPEKSTinON AlfD PIETY. The goal was at last reached. The black ram for the propitiatory offering was found, and was now awaiting in Berlin the hour of sacrifice. With what eager impatience, with BERLIN AND SANS-SOUCI ; OR, what throbbing pulses, did Freders- dorf wait for the evening ! At last this sublime mystery would be explained, and rivers of gold would flow at his command. Happily, the king was not in Berlin — he had gone to Chai'lotten- burg. Fredersd