ft; !■}!! Ij ip ii "111 AT LOS ANGELES GIFT OF G, De Garmo C. MARIA THERESA. JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT ^n ^^istorical Noocl BY L. MUHLBACH AUTHOR OF FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS COURT, THE MERCHANT OF BERLIN, BERLIN AND SANS-SOUCI, FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY, STORY OF A MILLIONAIRE, TWO LIFE PATHS, ETC. TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN By ADELAIDE DeV. CHAUDRON •*'..' NEW YORK A. L. POWLE, Publisher 1904 Copyright, 1865, By S. H. GOETZEL. Copyright, 1867, 1893, By D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. tec ••• < •••«•• -r J e c *i ».••• PC Ol>«.t««.«C' , • « • » • • * • • ' •• 0OIvrTE]^TS ^438 CHAPTER I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. XXIII. XXIV. XXV. XXVI. XXVII. XXVIII. XXIX. XXX. XXXI. XXXII. XXXIII. MARIA THERESA. The Conference, The Letter, . Tlie Toilet of the Empress, Husband and Wife, The Archduke Joseph, Kaunitz, The Toilet, The Red Stockings, . New Austria, . PA6B 1 . 9 14 . 16 23 . 27 29 . 33 34 ISABELLA. The Young Soldier, The Empress and her Son, An Italian Knight, Isabella of Parma, The Ambassador Extraordinary, The Dream of Love, . Gluck, The New Opera, Raniero von Calzabigi, The Birthday, . Orpheus and Eurydice, " In Three Years, we meet again, " Che Faro Senza Eurydice, . 39 43 50 53 56 60 66 70 73 75 79 84- 89 KING OF ROME. Father Porhammer and Count Kaunitz, . . .95 Matrimonial Plans, ....... 98 Josepha of Bavaria, 106 The Marriage Night, 110 An Unhappy Marriage, . . . . . .116 A Statesman's Hours of Dalliance, .... 120 Prince Kaunitz and Ritter Gluck, .... 125 An Unfortunate Meeting, 129 Mourning, 131 The Imperial Abbess, 136 The Co- Regent, 140 iii iv CONTENTS. rnAPTF.R PAGE XXXIV. Haroim al Raschid, .... . 145 XXXV. Tlie Disguise Removed, .... . 149 XXXVI. XXXVIT Rosary and Sceptre, .... The Difference between an Abbess and an 151 Empress, 153 XXXVIIJ XXXIX XL. The Reigning Empress, Tlie Co-Regent Deposed, .... Mother and Son, . 156 . 162 . 166 XLI. Death of the Liberator, .... . 170 XLII. The Mirror, . 174 XLIII. The Interview with Kaimitz, . . 179 XLIV. XLV. XL VI. The Archduchess Josepha, The Departure, Inoculation . 185 . 188 . 190 XL VII. An Adventure, ...... . 197 XLVIII. The Judgment of Solomon, . . 203 XLIX. Two Affianced Queens, .... . 207 EMPEROR OF AUSTRIA. L. The Dinner at the French Ambassador's, LI. Marianne's Disappearance, LII. Count Falkenstein, LIII. What they foimd at Wichern LIV. The Somnambulist, LV. The Prophecy, . LVI. The Gift, LVII. The Conference, LVIII. Kaunitz, LIX. Souvenir d'Eperies, . LX. Frederick the Great, LXI. The Prima Donna LXII. Frederick the Great and Prince Kaunitz, LXIII. Russia a Foe to all Europe, LXIV. The Map of Poland LXV. Tlie Countess Wielopolska, LXVI. The Emperor and the Countess, . LXVII. Maria Theresa LXVIII. Marie Antoinette and Court Etiquette, LXIX. The Triumph of Diplomacy, . LXX. Gossip, . . • LXXI. An Explanation, .... LXXII. Famine in Bohemia, .... LXXIII. Tlie Black Broth, .... LXXIV. Tlie Extortioners of Quality, LXXV. Diplomatic Esoterics, LXXVI. Russia Speaks, ..... LXXVII. The Last Petition, .... LXXVIII. Finis Polonise, ..... LXXIX. The I\Iad Countess, .... LXXX. The Betrotlial LXXXI. Franz Anthony Mesmer, . LXXXII. Theresc von Paradies, .... LXXXIII. The First Day of Light, . 312 216 220 223 228 233 238 240 243 245 248 251 256 358 262 266 269 273 275 2-: 8 381 387 292 296 300 306 310 315 318 322 327 330 331 335 CONTENTS. CHAPTER LXXXIV. Diplomatic Strategy, . LXXXV. Dominus ac Kedem[)tor Noster, LXXXVI. Heart- Struggles, . LXXXVII. The Forced Bridal, . , LXXXVIII. Prince Louis de Rohan, LXXXIX. The Poles at Vienna, XG. The Last Farewell, XCI. The Concert, .... XCII. The Catastrophe, . PAGE 341 342 347 , 350 354 360 365 . 368 374 MARIE ANTOINETTE. XCIII. " Le Roi est Mort, Vive le Roi ! " . . 377 XCIV. The Memoranda, ..... . 381 xcv. France and Austria, .... . 384 xcvi. The King's List, . 388 XCVII. The First Pas(iuinade . 390 XCVIII. The New Fasliions . 393 XCIX. The Temple of Etiquette, . 396 c. The New Fashions and their Unhappy Resu Its, 399 CI. Sunrise, . 401 CIL The Following Day . 406 cm. The Last Api)eal, . 410 CIV. The Flight, . 413 cv. Joseph in France, . 415 CVI. The Godfather, . 418 evil. The Godfather . 420 CVIII. The Arrival at Versailles, .... . 422 CIX. Count Falkenstein in Paris, . . 426 ex. The Queen and the " Dames de la Halle, " . . 431 CXI. The Adopted Son of the Queen, . 435 CXII. " Chantons, celebrons notre Reine, " . . 437 CXIII. The Hotel Turenne, .... . 440 CXIV. The Denouement, ..... . 443 cxv. The Parting, . 445 CXVI. Joseph and Louis, ..... . 448 CXVII. The Promenade and the Epigram, . 450 CXVIII. The Dinner en Famille, .... . 454 CXIX. A Visit to Jean Jacques Rousseau, . 459 cxx. The Parting . 463 CXXI. Death of the Elector of Bavaria, . . 468 CXXII. A Page from History, .... . 475 CXXIII. The Emperor as Commander-in-Chief, . 477 CXXIV. Secret Negotiations for Peace, . . 479 cxxv. Fraternal Discord, . 483 CXXVI. The Defeat, . 488 CXXVII. The Revenge, ...... . 492 CXXVIII. A Letter to the Empress of Russia, . . 497 CXXIX. The Gratitude of Princes, . 500 CXXX. Frederick the Great, ..... . 503 CXXXI. " The Darkest Hour is before Day, " . 506 CXXXII. The Emperor and his Mother, . . 509 VI CONTENTS. CHAPTER CXXXIII. Prince Potemkin, CXXXIV. The Prussian Ambassador, CXXXV. The Austrian Ambassador, . CXXXVI. The Empress Catharine, . CXXXVII. The Czarina and her Master, CXXXVIII. A Diplomatic Defeat, . CXXXIX. The Czarina and the Kaiser, PAGE 513 , 516 520 , 525 528 532 535 THE EEIGN OF JOSEPH. CXL. The Oath, 541 CXLI. Prince Kaunitz . 543 CXLII. The Banker and his Daughter, . 547 CXLIII. The Countess Baillou, 551 CXLIV. The Expulsion of the Clarisserines, . 554 CXLV. Count Podstadsky's Escort, 557 CXLVI. The Lampoon, .... . 559 CXLVII. The Petitioners, ..... 562 CXLVIII. The Petitioners, .... . 564 CXLIX. The Lady Patroness, .... 567 CL. Mother and Son, .... . 570 CLI. The Two Oaths, 574 CLII. New-fashioned Obsequies, . 578 CLIII. The Pope in Vienna, .... . 582 CLIV. The Flight . 585 CLV. The Marriage Before God, . . 590 CLVI. The Park, . 591 CLVII. The Parting . 594 CLV III. Cohmel Szekuly, .... . 597 CLIX. The Pope's Departure, . 601 CLX. The Repulse, . 607 CLXI. The Count in the Pillory, . . 610 CLXII. The Nemesis, ..... . 614 CLXIII. Horja and the Rebellion in Hungary, . 617 CLXIV. The Jew's Revenge, . 619 CLXV. The Favor of Princes, . 625 CLXVI. The Deputation from Hungary, . 629 CLXVII. The Recompense, .... . 632 CLXVIII. The Rebellion in the Netherlands, . 638 CLXIX. The Imperial Suitor, .... . 642 CLXX. The Last Dream of Love, . 645 CLXXI. Tlie Turkish War, 649 CLXxn. Marriage and Separation, . 652 CLXXIII. The Last Dreain of Glory, . . 658 CT.XXIV. The Hungarians Again, . . 663 CLXXV. The Revocation, , . 667 CLXXVI. The Death of the Martyr, » . 670 ILLUSTRATIONS. PACFNG PAGE Portrait of Maria Theresa Frontispiece Portrait ot Joseph II 140 View of Vienna in the Reign of Joseph II 860 The Emperor Joseph II and his General Officers . . . 544 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. MARIA THEEESA. CHAPTER I. THE CONFERENCE. In the council-chamber of the Empress Maria Tlieresa, the six lords, who composed her cabinet council, awaited the entrance of their imperial mistress to open the sitting. At tiiis sitting, a great political question was to be discussed ; and its gravity seemed to be reflected in the faces of tlie lords, as, in low tones, they wliispered together in the dim, spacious ai)art- ment, whose antiquated furniture of dark velvet tapestry corre- sponded well with the anxious looks of its occupants. In the centre of the room stood the Baron von Bartenstein and the Count von Uhlefeld.the two powerful statesmen who for thirteen years had been honored by the confidence of the empress. Together they stood, their consequence acknowledged by all, while with proud and lofty mien, they whispered of state secrets. Upon the fair, smooth face of Bartenstein appeared an expres- sion of haughty triumph, wliich he was at no pains to conceal ; and over the delicate mouth of Von Ulilefeld fluttered a smile of ineffa- ble complacency. "I feel perfectly secm-e, " whispered Von Bartenstein. "The empress will certainly renew the treaties, and continue the policy which we have hitherto pursued with such brilliant results to Austiia. " "The empress is wise," returned Uhlefeld. "She can reckon upon our stanch support, and so long as she pursues this policy, we will sustain her. " While he spoke, there shot from his eyes such a glance of con- scious power, that the two lords who, from the recess of a neighbor- ing window, were watching the imperial favorites, were completely dazzled. "See, count," murmured one to the other, "see how Count Uhlefeld smiles to-day. Doubtless he knows already what the de- cision of the empress is to be ; and that it is in accordance with his wishes, no one' can doubt who looks upon him now. " " It will be well for us, " replied Count Colloredo, " if we subscribe unconditionally to the opinions of the lord chancellor. I, for my 2 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COUET. part, will do so all the more readily, that I confess to you my utter ignorance of the question whieli is to come before us to-day. I was really so preoccupied at our last sitting that I — I failed exactly to comprehend its nature. I tliink, therefore, that it will be well for us to vote with Count von Uhlefeld — that is, if the president of the Aulic Coimcil, Count Harrach, does not entertain other opin- ions. " Count Harrach bowed. "As for me," sighed he, "I must, as usual, vote with Count Bartenstein. His will be, as it ever is, the decisive voice of the day ; and its echo will be heard from the lips of the empress. Let us echo them both, and so be the means of helping to crush the presumption of yonder crafty and arrogant courtier. " As he spoke he glanced toward the massive table of carved oak, around which were arranged the leathern arm-chairs of the mem- bers of the Aulic Council. Count Colloredo followed the glance of his friend, which, with a supercilious expression, i-ested upon the person to whom he alluded. This person was seated in one of the chaix's, deeply absorbed in the perusal of the papers that lay before him upon the table. He was a man of slight and elegant propor- tions, whose youthful face contrasted singularly with the dark, manly, and weather-beaten countenances of the other members of the council. Not a fault marred the beauty of this fair face ; not the shadow of a wrinkle ruffled the polish of the brow ; even the lovely mouth itself was free from those lines by which thought and care are wont to mark the passage of man through life. One thing, however, was wanting to this beautiful mask. It was devoid of expression. Tliose delicate features were immobile and stony. No trace of emotion stirred the compressed lips ; no shadow of thought flickered over tlie high, marble brow ; and the glance of those clear, light-blue eyes was as calm, cold, and unfeeling as that of a statue. This young man, with Medusa-like beauty, was Anthony Wenzel von Kaunitz, whom Maria Theresa had lately recalled from Paris to take his seat in her cabinet council. The looks of Harrach and Colloredo were directed toward him, but he appeared not to observe them, and went on quietly with his examination of the state papers. "You think, then, count," whispered Colloredo, thoughtfully, " that young Kaunitz cherishes the absurd hope of an alliance with France?" " I am sure of it. I know that a few days ago the French ambas- sador delivered to him a most affectionate missive from his friend the Marquise de Pompadour ; and I know too tliat yesterday he replied to it in a similar strain. It is his fixed idea, and that of La Pompadour also, to drive Austria into a new line of policy, by making her the ally of France." Count Colloredo laughed. "The best cure hat I know of for fixed ideas is the madliouse, " replied he, "and thither we will send little Kaunitz if " He ceased suddenly, for Kaunitz had slowly raised his eyes from the table, and tliey now rested witli such an icy gaze upon the smil- ing face of Colloredo, that the frightened statesman shivered. "If he should have heard me!" nuirmured he. "If he " but the poor count had no further time for reflection ; for at that mo- ment the folding-doors leading to the private apartments of the THE CONFERENCE. 3 empress were thrown open, and the lord high steward announced the approach of her majesty. The councillors advanced to the table, and in respectful silence awaited the imperial entrance. The rustling of silk was heard ; and then the quick step of the Countess Fuchs, whose duty it was to accompany the empress to the threshold of her council-chamber, and to close the door be- hind her. And now appeared the majestic figure of the empress. The lords laid their hands upon their swords, and inclined their heads in rev- erence before the imperial lady, who with light, elastic step advanced to the table, while the Countess Fuchs noiselessly closed the door and returned. The empress smilingly acknowledged the salutation, though her smile was lost to lier respectful subjects, who, in obedience to the strict Spanish etiquette which prevailed at the Austrian court, remained with their heads bent until the sovereign had taken her seat upon the throne. One of these subjects had bent his head with the rest, but he had ventured to raise it again, and he at least met the glance of royalty. This bold subject was Kaunitz, the youngest of the councillors. He gazed at the advancing empress, and for the first time a smile flitted over his stony features. And well might the sight of his sovereign lady stir tlie marble heart of Kaunitz ; for Maria Theresa was one of tlie loveliest women of her day. Though thirty- six years of age, and the mother of thirteen children, she was still beautifvil, and the Austrians were proud to excess of her beauty. Her high, thoughtful forehead was shaded by a profusion of blond hair, which lightly powdered and gathered up behind in one ricli mass, was there confined by a golden net. Her large, starry eyes were of that peculiar gray which changes with every emotion of the soul ; at one time seeming to be heavenly-blue, at another the dark- est and most flashing brown. Her bold profile betokened great pride ; but every look of hauglitiness was softened away by the enchanting expression of a mouth in whose exquisite beauty no trace of the so-called " Austrian lij:)'' could be seen. Her figure, loftier than is visual with women, was of faultless symmetiy, wliile her graceful bust would have seemed to the eyes of Praxiteles the waking to life of his own dreams of Juno. Those who looked upon this beautiful empress could well realize the emotions which thirteen years before had stirred the hearts of the Hungarian nobles, as she stood before them ; and had wrought them up to that height of enthusiasm which culminated in the well- known shout of " MORIAMUR PRO REGE NOSTRO 1" " Our king !" cried the Hungarians, and they were right. For Maria Theresa, who with her husband, was the tender wife ; toward her children, the loving mother ; was in all that related to her em- pire, her people, and her sovereignty, a man both in the scope of her comprehension and the strength of her will. She was capable of sketching bold lines of policy, and of following them out without reference to personal predilections or prejudices, both of which she was fully competent to stifle, wherever they threatened interference with the good of her realm, or her sense of duty as a sovereign. 4 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. The energy and determination of her character were written upon the lofty brow of Maria Theresa ; and now, as she appi-oached her councillors, these characteristics beamed forth from her countenance with such power and such beauty, that Kaunitz himself was over- awed, and for one moment a smile lit up his cold features. No one saw this smile except the imperial lady, who had woke the Memnon into life ; and as she took her seat upon the throne, she slightly bent her head in return. Now, with her clear and sonorous voice, she Invited her coun- cillors also to be seated, and at once reached out her hand for the memoranda which Count Bartensteiu had prepared for her ex- amiuation. • She glanced quickly over the papers, and laid them aside. " My lords of the Aulic Council, " said she, in tones of deep earnestness, "we have to-day a question of gravest import to discuss. I crave thereunto your attention and advice. We ai'e at this sitting to de- liberate upon the future policy of Austria, and deeply significant will be the result of this day's deliberations to Austria's welfare. Some of our old treaties are about to expire. Time, which has somewhat moderated the bitterness of our enemies, seems also to have weakened the amity of our friends. Both are dying away ; and the question now before us is. Whether we shall extinguish enmity, or rekindle friendship? For seventy years past England, Holland, and Sardinia have been our allies. For three hundred years France has been our hereditary enemy. Shall we renew our alliance with the former powers, or seek new relations with the latter? Let me have your views, my lords." With these concluding woixls, Maria Theresa waved her hand, and pointed to Count Uhlefeld. The lord chancellor arose, and with a dignified inclination of the head, responded to the appeal. "Since your majesty permits me to speak, I vote without hesita- tion for the renewal of oiu- treaty with the maritime powers. For seventy years our relations with these powers have been amicable and honorable. In our days of greatest extremity — when Louis XIV. took Alsatia and the city of Strasburg, and his ally, the Turk- ish Sultan, besieged Vienna — when two powerful enemies threatened Austria witli destruction, it was this alliance with the maritime powers and with Sardinia, which, next to the succor of the generous King of Poland, saved the Austrian empire from ruin. The brave Sobieski saved our capital, and Savoy held Lombardy in check, while England and Holland guarded the Netherlands, which, since the days of Piiilip II. , have ever been th nest of rebellion and revolt. To tliis alliance, therefore, we owe it that your majesty still reigns f)ver tliose seditious provinces. To Savoy we are ind(4)ted for Lom- bardy ; while France, perfidious France, has not cmly robbed us of our territory, but to this day asserts her right to its possession ! No, your majesty — so long as France retains that which belongs to Austria, Austria will neither forgive lier enmity norforget it. See, on the contrary, how tlie inaritinie powers have befriended us! It was tlicir gold which enabled us fh-st to witiistand France, and after- ward Prussia — their gold that filled your majestj^'s coffers — their gold that sustained and confirmed the prosperity of your majesty's dominions. This is the alliance that I advocate, and with all my heart I vote for its renewal. It is but just tha the ])rinces and riders of the earth should give example to the world of good faith in their THE CONFERENCE. 5 dealings ; for the integrity of the sovereign is a pledge to all nations of the integrity of his people." Count Uhlefeld resumed his seat, and after him rose the power- ful favorite of the empress, Count Bartenstein, who, in a long and animated address, came vehemently to the support of Uhlefeld. Then came Counts Colloredo and Harrach, and the lord high steward, Count Khevenhiiller — all unanimous for a renewal of the old treaty. Not one of these rich, proud nobles would have dared to breathe a sentiment in opposition to the two powerful statesmen that had spoken before them. Bartenstein and Uhlefeld had passed the word. The alliance must continue with those maritime powers, from whose subsidies such unexampled wealth had flowed into the coffers of Austria, and — those of the lords of the exchequer ! For, up to the times of which we write, it was a fundamental doctrine of court faith, that the task of inquiry into the accounts of the im- perial treasury was one far beneath the dignity of the sovereign. The lords of the exchequer, therefore, were responsible to nobody for their administration of the funds arising from the Dutch and English subsidies. It was natural, then, that the majority of the Aulic Council should vote for the old alliance. While they argued and voted, Kaunitz, the least important personage of them all, sat perfectly unconcerned, paying not the slightest attention to the wise deductions of his col- leagues. He seemed much occupied in straightening loose papers, mending his pen, and removing with his finger-tips the tiny specks that flecked the lustre of his velvet coat. Once, while Bartenstein was delivering his long address, Kaunitz carried his indifference so far as to draw out his repeater (on which was painted a portrait of La Pompadour, set in diamonds) and strike the hour ! The musical ring of the little bell sounded a fairy accompaniment to the deep and earnest tones of Bartenstein 's voice ; while Kaunitz, seeming to hear nothing else, held the watch up to his ear and counted its strokes.* The empress, who was accustomed to visit the least mani- festation of such inattention on tliepart of her councillors with oj^en censure — the empress, so observant of form, and so exacting of its observance in others — seemed singularly indulgent to-day ; for while Kaunitz was listening to the music of his watcli, his imperial mis- tress looked on with half a smile. At last, when the fifth orator had spoken, and it became the turn of Kaunitz to vote, Maria Theresa turned her flashing eyes upon him, with a glance of anxious and appealing expectation. As her look met his, how had all coldness and imconcern van- ished from his face ! How glowed his eyes with the lustre of great and world-swaying thoughts, as, rising from his chair, he returned the gaze of his sovereign with one that seemed to ci'ave forbearance ! But Kaunitz had almost preternatural control over his emotions, and he recovered himself at once. "I cannot vote for a renewal of our worn-out alliance with the maritime powers, " said he, in a clear and determined voice. As he uttered these words, looks of astonishment and disapprobation were visible upon the faces of his colleagues. The lord chancellor con- tented himself with a contemptuous shrug and a supercilious smile. Kaunitz perceived it, and met both shrug and smile with undis- turbed composure, while calmly and slowly he repeated his offend* ♦ Vide Kormayr, " Austriau Plutarch," vol. xli., p. 353. JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. ing words. For a moment he paused, as if to give time to his hearers to test the flavor of his new and startling language. Then, firm and collected, he went on : •' Our alliance with England and Holland has long been a yoke and a humiliation to Austria. If, in its earlier daj's, this alliance ever afforded us protection, dearly have we paid for that protection, and we have been forced to buy it with fearful sacrifices to our na- tional jjride. Never for one moment have these two powers allowed us to forget that we have been dependent upon their bounty for money and defence. Jealous of the growing power and influence of Austria, before wliose youtliful and vigorous career lies the gJory of future greatness — jealous of our increasing wealth — jealous of the splendor of Maria Theresa's reign — these powers, whose faded laurels are buried in the grave of tlie past, have compassed sea and land to stop the flow of our prosperity, and sting the pride of our nationality. With their tyrannical commercial edicts, they have dealt injiiry to friends as well as foes. Th^ closing of the Scheldt and Rhine, the Barrier treaty, and all the other restrictions upon trade devised by those crafty English to damage the traflfic of other nations, all these compacts have been made as binding upon Austria as upon every other European power. Unmindful of their alliance with us, the maritime powers have closed their ports against our ships ; and while artectiug to watch the Netherlands in our be- half, they have been nothing better tlian spies, seeking to discover wliether our flag transcended in the least the limits of our own blockaded frontiers ; and whether to any but to themselves accrued the profits of trade with the Baltic and North Seas. Vraimevt, such friendship lies heavily upon us, and its weight feels almost like that of enmity. At Aix-la-Cliapelle I had to remind the English ambas- sador that his unknightly and arrogant bearing toward Austria was unseemly both to the sex and majesty of Austria's empress. And onr august sovereign herself, not long since, saw fit to reprove the insolence of this snnu^ Britisli envoy, who in her very presence spoke of the Netherlands as thoiigh they had been a boon to Austria from England's clemeuc}'. Incensed at the tone of this representa- tive of our friends, the empress exclaimed : 'Am I not ruler in the Netherlands as well as in Vienna? Do I hold my right of empire from England and Holland?'"* "Yes," interrupted Maria Theresa, impetuously, "yes, it is true. The arrogance of these royal traders has provoked me beyond all bearing. I will no longer permit them to insinuate of my own im- perial rights, that I liold them as :avors from the hand of any earthly power. It chafes the ])ride of an empress-queen to be called a friend and treated as a vassal : and I intend that these proud allies shall feel that I resent their afl'ronts !" It was wonderful to see the effect of tliese impassioned words upon the auditors of the empress. They quaked as they thought liow they had voted, and tlieir awe-stricken faces were pallid with fright. Uhlefeld ;ind Bartcnstein exchanged glances of amazement and dismay ; wliilftiie other nobles, like adroit courtiers, fixed their looks, witli awakening admiration, upon Kaimitz, in wliom their ex])eri(>nce(l eyes were just discovering the rising luminary of a new political firmament. He, meanwhile, had inclined his head and smiled when the em« * Coxe, " History of the House of Austria," vol. v., p. 51. THE CONFERENCE. 7 press had interrupted him. She ceased, and after a short pause, Kaunitz resumed, with unaltered equanimity: " Your majesty has been graciously pleased to testify, in your own sovereign person, to the tyranny of our two northern allies. It remains, therefore, to speak of Sardinia alone — Sardinia, who hchl Lombardy in check. No sooner had Victor Amadeus put his royal signature to the treaty made by him with Austria, than he turned to his confidants and said (loud enough for us to hear him in Vienna) : ' Lombardy is mine. I will take it, but I shall eat it up, leaf by leaf, like an artichoke.' And methinks his majesty of Sardinia has proved him- self to be a g-ood vrencherman. He has already swallowed several leaves of his artichoke, in that he is master of several of the fair- est provinces of Lombardy. It is true that this royal g-ourmand has laid aside his crown; and that in his place reigfns Victor Emanuel, of whom Lord Chesterfield, in a burst of enthusiasm, has said, that ' he never did and never will comnait an act of in- justice.' Concede that Victor Emanuel is the soul of honor; still," added Kaunitz with a shake of the head, and an incredulous smile, " still — the Italian princes are abominable geographers — • and they are inordinately fond of artichokes.* Now their fond- ness for this vegetable is as dangerous to Austria as the too-loving grasp of her northern allies, who with their friendly hands not only close their ports against us, but lay the weight of their fav- ors so heavily upon our heads as to force us down ujion our knees before them. What have we from England and Holland but their subsidies? And Austria can now afford to relinquish them — Aus- tria is rich, powerful, prosperous enough to be allowed to proffer her friendship where it will be honorably returned. Austria, then, must be freed from her oppressive alliance with the mari- time powers. She has youth and vitality enough to shake off this bondage, and strike for the new path which shall lead her to greatness and glory. There is a moral and intangible greatness, of whose existence these trading" Englishmen have no conception, but which the refined and elevated people of France are fully competent to appreciate. France extends to us her hand, and offers us alliance on terms of equality. Cooperating with France, we shall defy the enmity of all Europe. With our two-edged sword we shall turn the scales of future European strife, and make peace or war for other nations. France, too, is our natural ally, for she is our neighbor. And she is more than this, for she is our ally by the sacred unity of one faith. The Holy Father at Eome, who blesses the arms of Austria, will no longer look sor- rowfully ui)on Austria's league with heresy. When apostolic France and we are one, the blessings of the Church will descend upon our alliance. Religion, therefore, as well as honest states- manship, call for the treaty with France." " And I," iried Maria Theresa, rising quickly from her seat, her eyes glowing with enthusiastic fire, '* I vote joyfully with Coimt Kaunitz. I, too, vote for alliance with France. The count has spoken as it stirs my heart to hear an Austrian speak. He loves his fatherland, and in his devotion he casts far from him all thought of worldly profit or advancement. I tender him my warmest thanks, and I will take his words to heart." Overcome with the excitement of the moment, the empress * Kaunitz's own words. Kormayr, " Austrian Plutarch," vol. xi. o 8 JOSEPH 11. AND HIS COURT. reached her hand to Kaunitz, who eagerly seized and pressed it to his lips. Count Uhlefeld watched this extraordinary scene with aston- ishment and consternation. Bartenstein, so long- the favorite minister of Maria Theresa, was deadly pale, and his lips were compressed as thoug'h he were trying- to suppress a burst of rage. Harrach, Colloredo, and Khevenhiiller hung their heads, while they turned over in their little minds how best to curry favor with the new minister. The empress saw nothing of the dismayed faces around her. Her soul was filled with high emotions, and her countenance beamed gloriously with the fervor of her boundless patriotism. " Everything for Austria! My heart, my soul, my life, all are for my fatherland," said Maria Theresa, with her beautiful eyes raised to heaven. " And now, my lords," added she, after a pause, " I must retii'e, to beg light and counsel from the Al- mighty. I have learned your different views on the great question of this day; and when Heaven shall have taught me what to do, I will decide." She waved her hand in parting salutation, and with her loftiest imperial bearing- left the room. Until the doors were closed, the lords of the coimcil remained standing with inclined heads. Then they looked from one to another with faces of wonder and inquiry. Kaunitz alone seemed unembarrassed; and gathering- up his papers with as much un- concern as if nothing- had happened, he slig-htly bent his head and left the room. Never before had any member of the Aulic Council dared to leave that room until the lord chancellor had given the signal of departure. It was a case of unparalleled violation of court eti- quette. Count Uhlefeld was aghast, and Bartensteiti seemed crushed. Without exchanging a word, the two friends rose, aud with eyes cast down, and faces pale with the anguish of that hour, together they left the council-chamber toward which they had repaired with hearts and bearing so triiimphant. Colloredo and Harrach followed silently to the anteroom, and bowed del'erentially as their late masters passed through. But no sooner had the door closed, than the two courtiers ex- changed malicious sTniles. " Fallen favorites," laughed Harrach. " Quenched lights which yesterday slione like suns, and to-day are burnt to ashes! There is to be a soirrc to-niglit at Bartenstein's. For the first time in eleven years I shall stay away from Bartenstein's soirees." •' And I," replied Colloredo, laughing, " had invited Uhlefeld for to-morroAV. But. as the entertainment was all in his honor, I shall be taken \vith a sudden indisposition, and countermand my suj)j)er." " That will l)e a most summary ]:)rocecding," said Harrach. " I see that you believe the sun of Uhlefeld and Bartenstein has Bet forever." " T am convinced of it. TIicn have their deat h-l)low." " And the rising sun? You think it will be called Kaunitz?" " Will 1)('? 11 is called Kaunitz: so take my advice. Kaunitz, I know, is not a man to be bribed; but he has two weaknesses — women and horses. Yotj are, for the ])resent, the favorite of La THE LETTER. 9 Fortina ; and yesterday you won from Count Esterhazy an Arabian, which Kaunitz says is the finest horse in Vienna. If I were you, I would present to him both my mistress and my horse. Who knows but what these courtesies may induce him to adopt you as a protege 9 " CHAPTER II. THE LETTER. From her cabinet council the empress passed at once to her pri- vate apartments. When business w^as over for the day, she loved to cast the cares of sovereignty behind, and become a woman — chatting with her ladies of honor over tlie on dits of the court and city. During the hours devoted to her toilet, Maria Theresa gave herself up unreservedly to enjoyment. But she was so impetuous, that her ladies of honor were never quite secure that some little annoyance would not ruffle the serenity of her temper. The young girl whose duty it was to read aloud to the empress and dress her hair, used to declare that she would sooner wade through three hours' worth of Latin dispatches from Hungary, than spend one half hour as im- perial hair- dresser. But to-day, as she entered her dressing-room, the eyes of the empress beamed with pleasure, and her mouth was wreathed with svmny smiles. The little hair-dresser was delighted, and with a responsive smile took her place, and prepared for her important duties. Maria Theresa glided into the chair, and with her own hands began to ujafasten the golden net that confined her hair. She then leaned forward, and, with a pleased exjjression, contemplated the beautiful face that looked out from the silver-framed Venetian glass before which she sat. "Make me very charming to-day, Charlotte,"* said she. " Your majesty needs no help from me to look charming," said the gentle voice of the little tire-woman. " No hair-dresser had lent you her aid on that day when your Magyar nobles swore to die for you, and yet the world says that never were eyes of loyal subjects dazzled by such beauty and such grace. " "Ah, yes, child, but that was thirteen years ago. Thirteen years ! How many cares have lain upon my heart since that day ! If my face is wrinkled and my hair grown gray, I may thank that hateful King of Prussia, for he is the cause of it all." "If he has no greater sins to repent of than those two," replied Charlotte, with an admiring smile, "he may sleep soundly. Your majestj''s forehead is unruffled by a wrinkle, and your hair is as glossy and as brown as ever it was. " Brighter still was the smile of the empress, as she turned quickly roimd and exclaimed : "Then you think I have still beauty enough to please the emperor? If you do, make good use of it to-day, for I have something of importance to ask of him, and I long to find favor in his eyes. To work, then, Charlotte, and be quick, for — " At that moment, the silken hangings before the door of the dress- ing-room were drawn hastily aside, and the Countess Fuchs stepped forward. *Cliarlotte von Hieronymus was the mother of Caroline Pichler. 10 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. " Ah, countess, " continued the empress, " you are just in time for a cabinet toilet council. " But the lady of honor showed no disposition to respond to the gay greeting of her sovereign. With stiffest Spanish ceremony, she courtesied deeply. "Pardon me, your majesty, if I interrupt you," said she, solemnly, "but I have something to communicate to yourself alone. " "Oh, countess!" exclaimed Maria Theresa, anxiously, "you look as if you bore me sad tidings. But speak out — Charlotte knov^s as many state secrets as you do ; you need not be reserved before ner. " "Pardon me," again replied the ceremonious lady, with another deep courtesy, "I bring no news of state — I nuist speak with yoiu* majesty alone. " The eyes of the empress dilated with fear. " No state secret, " murmured she; "oh, what can it be, then? Go, Charlotte — go, child, and remain until I recall you." The door closed behind the tire-woman, and the empress cried out: "Now we are alone — be quick, and speak out what you have to say. You have come to give me pain — I feel it. " " Your majesty ordered me, some time since, " began the countess in her low, unsympathizing tones, "to watch the imperial house- hold, so that nothing might transpire within it that came not to the knowledge of your majesty. I have lately watched the move- ments of the emperor's valet." " Ah !" cried the empress, clasping her hands convulsively to- gether, "you watched him, and — " "Yes, your majesty, I watched him, and I was informed this morning that he had left the emperor's apartments with a sealed note in his hands, and had gone into the city." "No more — just yet," said the empress, with trembling lip. "Give me air! I cannot breathe." With wild emotion she tore open her velvet bodice, and heaving a deep sigh, signed to the countess to go on. "My spy awaited Gaspardi's return, and stop])ed him. He was forbidden, in the name of j'our majestv, to go farther. " "Goon." "He was broiight to me, your majesty, and now awaits your orders. " "So that if thei'e is an answer to the note, he has it," said Maria Theresa, sharjily. The countess bowed. "Where is he?" "In the antechamber, your majesty." The empress bounded from her seat, and walked across the room. Her face was flushed with anger, and she trembled in every limb. She seemed utidecided what to do ; but au last she stopped suddenly, and blushing deeply, without looking at the countess, she said in a low voice, "Bring him hither." The countess disappeared and returned, followed bj- Gasi)ardi. Maria Theresa strode impetuously forward, and bent her threat- ening ejes upon the valet. But the shrewd Italian knew better tlian to meet the lightning glance of an angry empress. With downcast looks and reverential obeisance he awaited her commands. "Look at me, Gaspardi," said slie, in tones that sounded in the valet's ears like distant thunder. "Answer my questions, sir!" THE LETTER. 11 Gaspardi raised his eyes. " To whom was the note addressed that was given you by the emperor this morning?" "Your majesty, I did not presume to look at it," replied Gas- pardi, quietly. " His imperial majesty was pleased to tell me where to take it, and that sufficed me." "And whither did you take it?" " Imperial majesty, I have forgotten the house. " "What street, then?" " Pardon me, imperial majesty ; these dreadful German names are too hard for my Italian tongue. As soon as I had obeyed his majesty's commands, I forgot the name of the street." " So that you are resolved not to tell me where you went with the emperor's note?" " Indeed, imperial majesty, I have totally forgotten. " The empress looked as if slie longed to annihilate a menial who defied her so successfully. " I see, " exclaimed she, " that you are crafty and deceitful, but you sliall not escape me. I command you, as your sovereign, to give up tlie note you bear about you for the emperor. I myself will deliver it to his majesty." Gaspardi gave a start, and unconsciously his hand sought the place where the note was concealed. He turned very pale and stam- mered, " Imperial majesty, I have no letter for tlie emperor. " "You have it there !" thundered the infuriated empress, as with threatening hand she pointed to the valet's breast. "Deliver it at once, or I will call my lackej^s to search you. " "Your majesty forces me then to betray my lord and emperor?" asked Gaspardi, trembling. "You serve him more faithfully by relinquishing the letter than by retaining it," returned Maria Theresa, hastily. "Once more I command you to give it up. " Gaspardi heaved a sigh of anguish, and looked imploringly at the empress. But in the trembling lips, the flashing eyes, the flushed cheeks that met his entreating glance, he saw no symptoms of relenting, and he dared the strife no longer. His hand shook as he drew forth the letter. The empress uttered a cry, and with the fury of a lioness snatched the paper and crushed it in her hand. " Your majesty, " wliispered the countess, " dismiss the valet be- fore he learns too much. He might — " "Woe to him if he breathes a word to one human being !" cried the empress, with menacing gesture. " Woe to him if he dare breathe one word to his master !" " Heaven forbid that I should betray the secrets of my sovereign !" cried the afi'righted Gaspardi. "But, imperial majesty, what am I to say to my lord the emperor?" " You will tell j'our lord that you brought no answer, and it will not be the fii'st lie with wliich you have befooled his imperial ears," replied Maria Theresa contemptuously, while she waved her hand as a signal of dismissal. The unhappy Mercnry retired, and as he disappeared, the pent-up anguish of tlie empress burst fortli. "Ah, Mai-garetta, " cried she, in accents of wildest grief, "what an unfortunate woman I am ! In all my life I have loved but one man ! My heart, my soul, my every thought are his, and he robs 13 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. me, the mother of his children, of Ms love, and bestows it upon another !" "Perhaps the inconstancy is but momentary," replied the count ess, who burned to know the contents of the letter. " Perhaps there is no inconstancy at all. This may be nothing but an effort on the part of some frivolous coquette to draw our handsome emperor within the net of her guilty attractions. The note would show — " The empress scarcely heeded the words of her confidante. She had opened her hand, and was gazing upon the crumpled pajjer that held her husband's secret. "Oh!" murmured she, plaintively. "Oh, it seems to me that a thousand daggers have sprung from this little \ aper, to make my heart's blood flow. Who is the foolhardy woman that would entice my husband from his loyalty to me? Woe, woe to her when I shall have learned her name ! And I will learn it !" cried the unhappy wife. "I myself will take this letter to the emperor, and he shall open it in my presence. I will have justice ! Adulteiy is a fearful crime, and fearful shall be its punishment in my realms. The name ! the name ! Oh, that I knew tlie name of the execrable woman who has dared to lift her treasonable eyes toward my husband !" "Nothing is easier than to learn it, your majesty," whispered the countess, " squat like a toad, close to the ear of Eve" — " the letter will reveal it. " The empress frowned. Oh, for Ithuriel then ! " Dost mean that I shall open a letter which was never intended to be read by me ?" The countess pointed to the paper. " Your majesty has already broken the seal. You crushed it unintentionally. There remains but to unfold the paper, and every thing is explained. I will wage that it comes from the beautiful dancer Riccardo, whom the em- peror admired so much last night in the ballet, and whom he de- clared to be the most bewitching creature he had ever seen. " The eyes of the empress dropped burning tears, and, covering her face with her hands, she sobbed aloud. Tlien she seemed ashamed of her emotion, and raised her beautiful head again. " It is contemptible so to mourn for one who is faithless," said she. " It is for me to judge and to punish, and that will I ! It is my duty as ruler of Austria to bring crime to light. I will soon learn who it is that dares to exchange letters with the husband of the rcngning empress. And after all, the speediest, the simplest way to do tliis, lies before me. I must open the letter, for justice' sake ; but I swear that I will not read one word contained within its pages. I will see the name of the writer alone ; and then I can be sure that curiosity and personal interest have not prompted me. " And so Maria Theresa silenced her scruples, and persuaded her- self that she was compelled to do as tlie tempter had suggested. She tore open the note ; but true to her self-imposed vow, slie paused on the threshold of dishonor, and read nothing Imt the writer's name. "Riccardo!" cried she, wildly. "You were right, Margaretta ; an intrigue with tlie Riccardo. The emperor has written to her — the emperor, my husl)and !" Slie folded tlie fatal letter, and oh, how her white hands trembled as slie laid it ujion the table ! and how deadly pale were the cheeks that had flushed with anger when Gasjiardi had been by ! Tlie countess was not deceived l)y this phase of the empress's THE LETTER. 13 grief. She knew that the storm would burst, and she thought it better to divide its wrath. She stepped lightly out to call the con- fessor of her victim. Maria Theresa was unconscious of being alone. She stood before the table staring at the letter. Gradually her paleness vanished, and the hue of anger once more deepened on her cheeks. Her eyes, which had just been drooping with tears, flamed again with indig- nation ; and her expanded nostrils, her twitching mouth, and her heaving chest, betrayed the fury of the storm that was raging within. "Oh, I will trample her under foot!" muttered she between her teeth, while she raised her hand as if she would fain have dealt a death-stroke. "I will prove to the court — to the empire — to the world, how Maria Theresa hates vice, and how she punishes crime, without respect of persons. Both criminals shall feel the lash of justice. If my woman's heart break, the empress shall do her duty. It shall not be said that lust holds its revels in Vienna, as at the obscene courts of Versailles and St. Petersburg. No ! Nor shall the libertines of Vienna point to the Au.strian emperor as their model, nor shall their weeping wives be taimted with reports of the indul- gence of the Austrian empress. Morality and decorum shall prevail in Vienna. The fire of my royal vengeance shall consume that bold harlot, and then — tlien for the emperor !" "Your majesty v/ill never consent to bring disgrace upon the father of your imperial children, " said a gentle voice close by, and, turning at the sound, the empress beheld her confessor. She advanced hastily toward Father Porhammer. "How!" ex- claimed she angrily, "how ! — you venture to plead for the emperor? You come hither to stay the hand of justice?" "I do indeed," replied the father, "for to-day at least, her hand, if uplifted against the emperor, must recoil upon the empress. The honor of my august sovereigns cannot be divided. Your majesty must throw the shield of your love over the fault of your imperial husband. " " Oh, I cannot ! I cannot suffer this mortal blow in silence, " sobbed the empress. " Nay, " said the father, smiling, " the wife may be severe, though the empress be clement. " "But she, father — must she also be pardoned? she who has en- ticed my husband from his conjugal faith?" "As for the Riccardo, " replied Father Porhammer, "I have heard that she is a sinful woman, whose beauty has led many men astray. If your majesty deem her dangerous, she can be made to leave Vienna ; but let retribution go no further. " "Well, be it so," sighed the empress, whose heart was already softening. " You are right, reverend father, but La Riccardo shall leave Vienna forever. " So saying, she hastened to her escritoire, and wrote and signed the order for the banishment of the danseuse. "There," cried she, handing the order to the priest, "I pray you, dear father, remit this to Count Bartenstein, and let him see that she goes hence this very day. And when I shall have laid this evil spirit, perchance I may find peace once more. But, no, no !" con- tinued she, her eyes filling with tears; "when she has gone, some other enchantress will come in her place to charm my husband's 14 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COUET. love away. Oh, father, if chastity is not in the heart, sin will always find entrance there. " " Yes, your majesty ; and therefore should the portals of the heart be ever guarded against the enemy. As watchmen are appointed to guard the property, so are the servants of God sent on earth to ex- tend the protection of Heaven to the hearts of your people. " "And why may I not aid them in their holy labors?" exclaimed the empress, glowing suddenly with anew interest. "Why may I not appoint a committee of good and wise men to watch over the 'morals of my subjects, and to warn them from temptation, ere it has time to become sin? Come, father, you must aid me in this good work. Help me to be the earthly, as the Blessed Virgin is the heavenly mother of the Austrian people. Sketch me some plan whereby I may organize my scheme. I feel sure that your sugges- tions will be dictated by that Heaven to which you have devoted your whole life." "May the spirit of counsel and the spirit of wisdom enligten my understanding," said the father, with solemn fervor, "that I may worthily accomplish the mission with which my empress has in- trusted me !" " But, your majesty, " whispered the Countess Fuchs, " in your magnanimous projects for your people, you are losing sight of your- self. The Riccardo has not yet been banished ; and the emperor, seeing that no answer is coming to his note, may seek an interview. Who can guess the consequences of a meeting?" The empress shivered, as the countess probed the wounds herself had made in that poor, jealous heart. " True, true, " returned she, in an unsteady voice. " Go, father, and begin my work of reform, by casting out that wicked woman from among the unhappy wives of Vienna. I myself will announce her departure to the emperor. And now, dear friends, leave me. You, father, to Count Bartenstein. Countess, recall Charlotte, and send me my tire-women. Let the princes and princesses be regally attired to-day. I will meet the emperor in their midst. " The confessor bowed and retired, and the countess opening the door of the inner dressing-room, beckoned to Charlotte, who, in the recess of a deep bay-window, sat wearily awaiting the summons to return. CHAPTER III. THE TOILET OF THE EMPRESS. So dark and gloomy was the face of the empress, that poor Char- lotte's heart misgave her, as with a suppressed sigli she resumed her place, and once more took down the rich masses of her sovereign lady's hair. Maria Tlieresa looked sternly at the reflection of her little maid of honor's face in tlie glass. She saw how Charlotte's hands trembled, and this increased her ill-humor. Again she raised her eyes to her own image, and saw plainly that anger was unbe- coming to her. The flush on her face was not rosy, but i>urple ; and the scowl upon Ikm- brow was fast deepening into a wrinkle. Her bosom heaved with a heavy, heavy sigh. "Ah," thought she, " if I am cA^er again to find favor in his eyes, THE TOILET OF THE EMPRESS. 15 I must always smile ; for smiles are the last glowing tints of beavity's sunset. And yet, how can I smile, when my heart is breaking? He said that the Riccardo was the loveliest woman he had ever seen. Alas ! I remember the day wlien he knelt at my feet, and spoke thus . of me. Oil, my Franz ! Am I indeed old, and no longer lovable?" In her anxiety to scrutinize her own features, the empress bent suddenly forward, and the heavy mass of puflfs and braids that formed the coiffure she had seleced for the day, gave way. She felt the sharp points of the hair-pins in her head, and, miserable and nervous as she was, they seemed to wound her cruelly. Starting from her chair, she poured forth a torrent of reproaches upon Char- lotte's head, who, pale and trembling more than ever, repaired the damage, and placed among the braids a bouquet of white roses. These white roses deepened the unbecoming redness of the empress's face. She perceived this at once, and losing all self-control, tore the flowers from her hair, and daslied them on the floor. " Yovi are all leagued against me, " cried she, indignantly. " You are trying your best to disfigure me, and to make me look old before my time. Who ever saw such a ridiculous structure as this head- dress, that makes me look like a jjerambulating castle on a chess- board? Come, another CO iffuru, and let it not be such a ridiculous one as this. " Charlotte, of course, did not remind her mistress that the coiffure and roses had been her own selection. She had nothing to do but to obey in silence, and begin her work again. At last tlie painful task vias at an end. The empress looked keenly at herself in the glass, and convinced that she really looked well, she called imperatively for her tire-women. In came the procession, bearing hooped-skirt, rich-embroidered train, golden- flowered petticoat, and bodice flashing with diamonds. But the empress, usvially so affable at her toilet, surveyed botli maids and apparel with gloomy indifference. In moody silence she reached ovit her feet, while her slippers were exchanged for high-heeled shoes. Not a look had she to bestow upon the magnificent dress which enhanced a thousandfold her mature beauty. Without a word she dismissed the maids of honor, all except Cliarlotte, wliose crowning labor it was to give the last touch to the imperial head when the rest of the toilet had been declared to be complete. Again Maria Theresa stood before that high Venetian glass, and certainly it did give back the image of a regal beauty. For a while she examined her costume from head to foot ; and at last — at last, her beautiful blue eyes beamed bright with satisfaction, and a smile rippled the corners of her mouth. " No, " said she, aloud. "No, it is not so. I am neither old noi ugly. The light of youth has not yet fled from my brow. My beauty's sun has not yet set forever. My Franz Avill love me still ; and however charming yoimger women may be, he will remember the beloved of his boyhood, and we will yet be happy in reciprocal affection, come what may to us r.s emperor and empress. I do not believe that he said he had never seen so lovely a woman as Ric- cardo. Poor, dear Franz ! He has a tedious life as husband of the reigning sovereign. From sheer ennui he sometimes wanders from his wife's heart, but oh! he must, he must return to me; for if I were to lose him, earthly splendor would be valueless to me forever !" Charlotte, who stood behind her mistress with the comb in her 16 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. hand, was dismayed at all that she heard ; and the plaintive tones of this niagjniticent empress, at whose feet lay a world of might, touched her heart's core. But she sickened as she thought that her presence had been unheeded, and that the empress had fancied her- self rjone, while the secrets of her heart were thus struggling into words. The ample train completely screened little Charlotte from view, and a deadly paleness overspread her countenance as she awaited discovery. Suddenly the empress turned, and putting her hand tenderly on Charlotte's head, she said, in a voice of indescribable melancholy : " Be warned, Charlotte, and if you marry, never marry a man who has nothing to do. Men will grow inconstant from sheer ennui. " * " I never expect to marry, beloved mistress, " said tlie yoiiug girl, deeply touched by this confidence. " I wish to live and die in your majesty's service." "Do you? And can you bear for a lifetime with my impatience, dear child?" asked the empress, kissing the little devotee on the forehead. "'You know now, my little Chai'lotte, why I have been so unkind to-day ; you know that my heart was bleeding with such anguish, that had I not broken out in auger, I must have stifled with agony. You have seen into the depths of my heart, and why should I not confide in you, who know every secret of my state-council? No one suspects what misery lies under the regal mantle. And I care not to exhibit myself to the world's pitJ^ When Maria Theresa weeps, let her God and tliose who love her be the witnesses of her sorrow. Go, now, good little Charlotte, and forget every thing except your sovereign's love for you. Tell the governess of the Archduke Ferdinand to bring him hither. Let the other imperial children await me in my reception-room ; and tell the page in the anteroom to announce to his majesty that I request the honor of a visit from him. " Charlotte, once more happy, left the room, her heart filled with joy for herself, and gentle sorrow for her sovereign. Meanwhile the empress thought over the coming interview. "I will try to recall him to me by love, " murmured she, softly. "I will not reproach him, and although as his empress I have a double claim upon his loyalty, I will not appeal to any thing but his own dear heart ; and when he hears how he has made his poor Theresa suff"er, I know — " Here her voice failed her, and tears filled her eyes. But she dashed them quickly away, for ste])s approached, and the governess entered, with the infant prince in her arms. CHAPTER IV. HUSBAND AND WIFE, A HALF an hour later, the princes and princesses of Austi'ia were all assembled in tlieir mother's private parlor. They were a beauti- ful grou]). The empress, in their midst, held little Ferdinand in her arms. Close-])eeping through the folds of tlieir mother's rich dress, were three other little ones ; and a few steps farther were the Archduchesses Christine and Amelia. Near the open harpsichord * Maria Theresa's words. See Caroline Pichler, " Memoirs of My Life." HUSBAND AND WIFE. 17 stood the graceful form of the empress's eldest child, the Princess Elizabeth, who now and then ran her fingers lightly over the in- strument, while she awaited the arrival of her father. In the pride of her maternity and beauty stood the empress-queen ; but her heart throbbed painfully, though she smiled upon her chil- dren. The page announced the coming of the emperor, and then left the room. The empress made a sign to her eldest daughter, who seated herself before the harpsichord. The door opened, and on the threshold appeared the tall, elegant form of the Empei-or Francis. Elizabeth began a brilliant " Welcome, " and all the young voices joined in one loud chorus, " Long live our emperor, our sovereign, and our father !" sang the children ; but clear above them all were heard the sonorous tones of the mother, exclaiming in the fulness pf her love, "Long live my emperor, and my husband!" As if eveiy tender chord of Maria Theresa's heart had been struck, she broke forth into one of Metastasio's most passionate songs ; while Eliza- beth, catching the inspiration, accompanied her mother with sweet- est melody. The empress, her little babe in her arms, was wrapped up in the ecstasy of the moment. Never had she looked more en- chanting tlian she did as she ceased, and gave one look of love to her admiring husband. The emperor contemplated for a moment the lovely grovip before him, and then, full of emotion, came forward, and bonding over his wife, he kissed the round white arm that held the baby, and whispered to the mother a few words of rapture at her surpassing beauty. " But tell me, gracious empress, " said he, aloud, " to what am I indebted for this charming surprise?" The eyes of the empress shot fire, but in lieu of a reply, she bent down to the little Archduchess Josepha, who was just old enough to lisp her father's name, and said : " Josepha, tell the emperor what festival we celebrate to-day. " The little one, turning to her father, said, "To-day is imperial mamma's wedding-day. " " Our wedding-day !" murmured the emperor, "and I could for- get it !" " Oh, no ! my dear husband, " said the empress, " I am sure that you cannot have forgotten this joyous anniversary. Its remem- brance only slumbered in yovir heart, and the presence of your chil- dren here, I trust, has awakened that remembrance, and carried you back with me to the happy, happy days of our early love. " The voice of the wife was almost tearful, as she spoke those ten- der words ; and the emperor, touched and humbled at the thought of his own oversight, sought to change the subject. " But why, " asked he, looking ax'ound, "why, if all our other children are here to greet their father, is Joseph absent from this happy family gathering?" " He has been disobedient and obstinate again, " said the empress, with a shrug of her shoulders, "and his preceptor, to punish him, kept him awaj'. " The emperor walked to the door. " Surely, " exclaimed he, " on such a day as this, when all my dear children are around me, my son and the future emperor should be the first to bid me welcome." "Stay, my husband," cried the empress, who had no intention of allowing the emperor to escape so easily from his embarrassment. 18 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. " You must be content to remain with us, without the future em- peror of Germany, whose reign, I hope I may be allowed to pray, is yet for some years postponed. Or is this a happy device of the future emperor's father to remind me, on my wedding-day, that I am growing old enough to begin to think of the day of my decease V" The emperor was perfectly amazed. Although he was accus- tomed to such outbvirsts on the part of his wife, he searched vainly in liis heart for the cause of her intense bitterness to-day. He looked his astonishment ; and the empress, mindful of her resolve not to reproach him, tried her best to smile. The emperor shook his head thoughtfully as he watched her face, and said half aloud : " All is not right with thee, Theresa ; thou smilest like a lioness, not like a woman. " "Very well, then," said she sharply, "the lioness has called you to look upon her whelps. One day they will be lions and lionesses too, and in that day they will avenge the injuries of their mother." The empress, as she spoke, felt that her smothered jealovisj' was bursting forth. She hastily dismissed her children, and going her- self to the door, she called for the governess of the baby, and almost thi'ew him in her arms. "I foresee the coming of a storm, " thought the emperor, as the door being closed, Maria Theresa came quickly back, and stood be- fore him. "And is it indeed true," said she bitterly, "that you had forgot- ten your wedding-day"? Not a throb of your heart to remind you of the past !" "My memory does not cling to dates, Theresa, " replied the em- peror. "What, if to-day be accidentally the anniversary of our marriage? With every beating of my heart, 1 celebrate the hour itself, when I won the j^roud and beautiful heiress of Austria ; and when I remember that she deigned to love me, the jDoor Archduke of Lorraine, my happiness overwhelms me. Come, then, my beau- tiful, my beloved Theresa ; come to my heart, that I may thank jou for all the blessings that I owe to your love. See, dearest, we are alone ; let us forget royalty for to-day, and be happy together in all the fulness of mutual confidence and affection." So saying, he would have pressed her to his heart, but the em- press drew coldly back, and turned deadly pale. This tmembar- rassed and confident tenderness irritated her beyond expression. That her faithless spouse sliould, without the slightest remorse, act the part of the devoted lover, outraged her A-ery sense of decency.* "Really, my husband, it becomes j'ou well to prate of confidence and affection, who have ceased to think of your own wife, and have eyes alone for the wife of another !" "Again jealous?" sighed the emperor wearily. "Will you never cease to cloud our domestic sky by these absurd and groundless suspicions?" "Groundless!" cried the empress, tearing the letter violently from lier bosom. "With tliis proof of your guilt confronting you, you will not dare to saj' that I am jealous Avithout cause !" "Allow me to inquire of your majesty, what this letter is to prove?" " It proves that to-day you have written a letter to a woman, of whom vcsterdav you said that she was the most beautiful woman in the woild. " HUSBAND AND WIFE. 19 "I have no recollection of saying such a thing of any woman; and I am surprised that your majesty sliould encourage your attend- ants to repeat such contemptible tales, " replied the emperor, with some bitterness. "Were I like you, the reigning sovereign of a great empire, I should really find no time to indulge in gossip and scandal. " "Your majesty will oblige me by refraining from any comment upon affairs which do not concern you. I alone am reigning em- press here, and it is for my people to judge whether I do my duty to them ; certainly not for you, who, while I am with my ministers of state, employ your leisure hours in writing love-letters to my sub- jects. " "I? I write a love-letter?" said the emperor. "How dare you deny it?" cried the outraged empress. "Have you also forgotten that this morning you sent Gaspardi out of the palace on an errand?" " No, I have not forgotten it, " replied the emperor, with growing astonishment. But Maria Theresa remarked that he looked con- fused, and avoided her eye. "You confess, then, that you sent the letter, and requested an answer ?" "Yes, but I received no answer," said the emperor, with em- barrassment. " There is your answer, " thundered the enraged wife. " I took it from Gaspardi myself. " " And is it possible, Theresa, that you have read a letter addressed to me?" asked the emperor, in a severe voice. The empress blushed, and her eyes sought the ground. " No, " said she, " I have not read it, Franz. " "But it is open," persisted he, taking it from his wife's hand. "Who, then, has dared to break the seal of a letter addressed to me?" And the emperor, usually so mild toward his wife, stood erect, with stormy brow and eyes flashing with anger. Maria Theresa in her turn was surprised. She looked earnestly at him, and confessed inwardly that never had she seen him look so handsome ; and she felt an inexplicable and secret pleasure that her Franz, for once in his life, was really angi-y with her. " I broke the seal of the letter, but I swear to you that I did not read one word of it, " replied she. " I wished to see the signature only, and that signatiu-e was enough to convince me that I had a faithless husband, who outrages an empress by giving her a dancer as her rival !" "The signature convinced you of this?" asked the emperor. "It did!" "And you read nothing else?" " Nothing, I tell you. " "Then, madam, " returned he, seriously, handing the letter back to her, " do me the favor to read the whole of it. After breaking the seal, you need not hesitate. I exact it of you. " The empress looked overwhelmed. "You exact of me to read a love-letter addressed to you?" " Certainly I do. You took it fi-om my valet, you broke it open, and now I beg you will be so good as to read it aloud, for I have not yet read it myself. " 20 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. " I will read it, then," cried the empress, scornfully. *' And I promise you that I shall not suppress a word of its contents." " Eead on," said the emperor, quietly. The empress, with loud and angry tone, began: " To his Gracious Majesty, the Emperor: " Your majesty has honored me by asking my advice upon a sub- ject of the highest importance. But your majesty is much nearer the goal than I. It is true that my gracious master, the count, led me to the vestibule of the temple of science, but further I have not penetrated. What I know I will joy full}' impart to your majesty; rnd joyfully will I aid you in your search after that which the whole world is seeking. I will come at the appointed hour. " Your majesty's loyal servant, " RiCCAKDO." " I do not understand a word," said the mystified empress. " But I do," returned the emperor, with a meaning smile. " Since your majesty has thrust yourself into the portals of my confidence, I must e'en take you with me into the penetralia, and confess at once that I have a passion, which has cost me many a sleepless night, and has jireoccupied my thoughts, even when I was by your majesty's side." " But I see nothing of love or passion in this letter," replied Maria Theresa, glancing once more at its singular contents. " And yet it speaks of nothing else. I may just as well confess, too, that in pursuit of the object of my love, I have spent three hun- dred thousand guilders, and thrown away at least one hundred thousand guilders' worth of diamonds." " Your mistress must be either very coj' or very grasping," said Maria Theresa, almost convulsed with jealousy. " She is very coy," said the emperor. " All my gold and dia- monds have won me not a smile — she will not yield up her secret. ]!ut I believe that she has responded to the love of one hapjiy mor- tal, Count Saint-Germain." " Count Saint-Germain!" exclaimed the empress, amazed. " Himself, your majesty. He is one of the fortunate few, to v.'hom the coy beauty has succumbed; and to take his place I would give millions. Now, I heard yesterday that the confidant of the count was in Vienna; and, hoping to learn something from him, I invited him hither. Signor Jitccardo — " " Sif/n'>r Riccardo! Was this letter written by a man? " "By the hiisl)aiHl of the dancer." "And your letter was addressed to him?" " Even so, niadanie." " Then this passion of which you speak is your old passion- alchemy." " Yes, it is. I had promised you to give it up, but it proved stronger than I. Not to annoy you, 1 have ever since worked secretly in my laboratory. 1 have just conceived a new idea. I am about to try the experiment of consolidating small diamonds into one large one, by means of a burning-glass."- The empress answered this with a hearty, happy laugh, aud went up to her husband with outstretched hands. " Franz," said she, " 1 am a simpleton; and all that has been fer^ HUSBAND AND WIFE. 21 meriting in my heart is sheer nonsense. My crown does not prevent me from being a silly woman. But, my heart's love, forgive my folly for the sake of my affection." Instead of responding to this appeal, the emperor stood perfectly still, and gazed earnestly and seriously at his wife. "Your jealousy, " said he, after a moment's silence, "I freely forgive, for it is a source of more misery to you than to me. But this jealousy has attacked my honor as a man, and that I cannot for- give. As reigning empress, I render you homage, and am content to occupy the second place in Austria's realms. I will not deny that such a role is irksome to me, for I, like you, have lofty dreams of ambition ; and I could have wished that, in giving me the title, you had allowed me sometimes the privileges of a co-regent. But I have seen that my co- regency irritated and annoyed you ; I have, therefore, renounced all thought of governing empires. I have done this, not only because I love you, Theresa, but because you are worthy by your intellect to govern your people without my help. In the world, therefore, I am known as the husband of the reigning empress ; but at home I am lord of my own household, and here I reign supreme. The emperor may be subordinate to his sovereign, but the man will acknowledge no superior ; and the dignity of his manhood shall be respected, even by yourself. " "Heaven forbid that I should ever seek to wound it !" exclaimed Maria Theresa, while she gazed with rapture upon her husband's noble countenance, and thought that never had he looked so hand- some as at this moment, when, for the first time, he asserted his authority against herself. " You have wounded it, your majesty, " replied the emperor, with emphasis. " You have dogged my steps with spies ; you have suf- fered my character to be discussed by your attendants. You have gone so far as to compromise me with my own servants; forcing them to disobey me by virtue of your rights as sovereign, exercised in opposition to mine as your husband. / gave Gaspardi orders to deliver Riccardo's note to me alone. I forbade him to tell any one whither he went. You took my note from him by force, and com- mitted the grave wrong of compelling a servant, hitherto faithful, to disobey and betray his master." " I did indeed wrong j'ou, dear Franz, " said the empress, already penitent. "In Gaspardi 's presence I will ask your pardon for my indelicate intrusion, and before him I will bear witness to his fidelity. I alone was to blame. I promise you, too, to sin no more against you my beloved, for your love is the brightest jewel in my crown. Without it, no happiness would gi-andeur give to me. Forgive me, then, my own Franz — forgive your unhappy Theresa !" As she spoke, she inclined her head toward her husband, and looked up to him with such eyes of love, that he could but gaze en- raptured upon her bewitching beauty. "Come, Franz, come!" said she tenderly; "surely, that wicked jest of yours has amply revenged you. Be satisfied with having given me a heartache for jealousy of the coy mistress upon whom you have wasted your diamonds, and be magnanimous. " "And you, Theresa? — will you be magnanimous also? Will you leave my servants and my letters alone, and set no more spies to dog my steps ?" " Indeed, Franz, I will never behave as I have done to-day, while 22 JOSEPH II. AND PUS COURT. we both live. Now, if 3-011 will sign my pardon, I will tell you a piece of news with which I intend shortly to surprise all Austria. " "Out with it, then, and if it is good news I sign the pardon," said the emperor, with a smile. " It is excellent news, " cried the empress, "for it will give new life to Austria. It will bring down revenge upon our enemies, and revenge upon that wicked infidel who took my beautiful Silesia from me, and who, boasting of his impiety, calls it enlightenment. " "Have you not yet forgiven Frederick for that little bit of Silesia that he stole from you?" asked the emperor, laughing. " No, I have not yet forgiven him, nor do I ever expect to do so. I owe it to him, that, years ago, I came like a beggar before the Magyars to whimper for help and defence. I have never yet forgot- ten the humiliation of that day, Franz. " "And yet, Theresa, we must confess that Frederick is a great man, and it were well for Austria if we were allies ; for such an alliance would secure the blessings of a stable peace to Europe. " " It cannot be, " cried the empress. " There is no sympathy be- tween Austria and Prussia, and peace will never come to Europe until one succumbs to the other. No dependence is to be placed upon alliances between incongruous nations. In spite of our allies, the English, the Dutch, and the Russians, the King of Prussia has robbed me of my province ; and all the help I have ever got from them was empty condolence. For this reason I have sought for alliance with another power — a power which will cordially unite with me in crushing that hateful infidel, to whom nothing in life is sacred. This is the news that I promised you. Our treaty with England and Holland is about to expire, and the new ally I have fovmd for Austria is France. " " An alliance with France is not a natural one for Austria, and can never be enduring, " exclaimed the emperor.* "It will be enduring," cried Maria Theresa, proudly, "for it is equally desired by both nations. Not only Louis XV., but the Mar- quise de Pompadour is impatient to have the treaty signed. " "That means that Kaunitz has been flattering the marquise, and the marquise, Kaunitz. But words are not treaties, and the mar- quise's promises are of no consequence whatever." " But, Franz, I tell you that we have gone further than words. Of this, however, no one knows, except the King of France, myself, Kaunitz, and the mai-quise. " " How in the world did you manage to buy the good-will of the marquise? How many millions did you pay for the precious boon?" " Not a kreutzer, dear luishaiul, only a letter. " "Letter! Letter from wlu)m?" " A letter from me to the marquise. " " What !" cried the emperor, laughing. " You write to La Pom- padour — yoU; Tlieresa ?" "Witli my own hand, I have written to her, and more than once, " returned Maria Theresa, joining in the laugh. "And what do you suppose I did. to save my lionor in the matter? I pretended to think that she was the wife of tlie king, and addressed her as 'Madame, ina soeiir et cousine. '" Here the emperor laughed immoderately. "Well, well!" ex- * The emperor's own words. Coxe, " History of the House of Austria," vol. v., p. 67. THE AECHDUKE JOSEPH. 23 claimed he. " So the Empress -Queen of Austria and Hungary writes with her own hand to her beloved cousin La Pompadour !" "And do you know what she calls meV" laughed the empress in i-eturn. "Yesterday I had a letter from her in which she calls me, sportively, 'Ma chere reine. '" The emperor broke out into such a volley of laughter, that he threw himself back upon a chair, which broke under him, and the empress had to come to his assistance, for he was too convulsed to get up alone. * "Oh dear! oh dear!" groaned the emperor, still continuing to laugh. "I shall die of this intelligence. Maria Theresa in corre- spondence witli Madame d'Etioles !" "Well, what of it, Franz V" asked Maria Theresa. "Did I not write to the prima donna Farinelli when we were seeking alliance with Spain? and is the marquise not as good as a soprano singer?" f The emperor looked at her with such a droll expression that she gave up all idea of defending herself from ridicule, and laughed as heartily as he did. At this moment a page knocked, and announced the Archduke Joseph and liis preceptor. "Poor lad!" said the emperor; "I suppose he comes, as usual, accompanied by an accuser. " CHAPTER V. THE ARCHDUKE JOSEPH. The emperor was right ; Father Francis came in with complaints of his highness. While the father with great pathos set forth the reason of the archduke's absence from the family circle, the culprit stood by, apparently indifferent to all that was being said. But, to any one observing him closely, his tremulous mouth, and the short, convulsive sighs, which he vainly strove to repress, showed the real anxiety of his fast-beating heart. He thrust back his rising tears, for the little prince was too proud to crave sympathy ; and he had already learned how to hide emotion by a cold and haughty bearing. From his childhood he liad borne a secret sorrow in his heart — the sorrow of seeing his young brother Carl preferred to him- self. Not only was Carl the darling of his parents, but he was the pet and plaything of the whole palace. True, the poor little arch- duke was not gifted with the grace and charming naivete of his brother. He was awkward, serious, and liis countenance wore an expression of discontent, which was thouglit to betray an evil dis- position, but which, in reality, was but the reflection of the heavy sorrow which clouded his young heart. No one seemed to under- stand — no one seemed to love liim. Alone in the midst of that gay and splendid court, he was never noticed except to be chided. :): The buds of his poor young heart were blighted by the mildew of neglect, so that outwardly he was cold, sarcastic, and sullen, while inwardly he glowed with a thousand emotions, which he dared reveal to no one, for no one seemed to dream that he was capable of feeling them. * Historical. + The empress's own words. Coxe, vol. v., p. 68, iHubner, " Life of Josepli II.," page 15. 3 24 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. To-day, as usual, he was brought before his parents as a culprit ; and without daring to utter a word in his own defence, he stood by, while Father Francis told how many times he had yawned over the " Lives of the Martyrs ;" and how he had refused to read, longer than one hour, a most edifying commentary of the Fathers on the Holy Scrii^tures. The empress heard with displeasure of her son's lack of piety ; and she looked severely at him, while he gazed sullenly at a portrait that hung opposite. " And can it be, my son, " exclaimed she, " that you close your heart against the word of God, and refuse to read religious books?" The boy gave her a glance of defiance. " I do not know, " said he, carelessly, " whether the books are religious or not ; but I know that they are tiresome, and teach me nothing. " "Gracious Heaven!" cried the empress, with horror, "hear the impious child !" " Rather, your majesty, " said Father Francis, " let us pray Heaven to soften liis heart. " The emperor alone said nothing ; but he looked at the boy with a friendly and sympathizing glance. The child saw the look, and for one moment a flush of pleasure passed over his face. He raised his eyes with an appealing expression toward his father, who could no longer resist the temptation of coming to his relief. "Perhaps," suggested he, "the books may be dull to a child of Joseph's years." " No book. " returned the empress, " should be dull that treats of God and of His holy Church. " "And the work, your majesty, which we were reading, was a most learned and celebrated treatise, " said Father Francis ; " one highly calculated to edify and instruct youth. " Joseph turned away from the father, and spoke to the emperor. " We have already gone through five volumes of it, your majesty, and I am tired to death of it. Moreover, I don't believe half that I read in his stupid books. " The empress, as she heard this, uttered a cry of pain. She felt an icy coldness benumb her heart, as she remembered that this un- believing boy was one day to succeed her on the throne of Austria. The emperor, too, was pained. By tlie deadly paleness of her face, he guessed the pang that was rending his wife's heart, and he dared say no more in defence of his son. "Your majesty sees," continued Father Francis, "how far is the heart of his highness from God and the Church. His instructors are grieved at liis precocious unbelief, and they are this day to confer together iipon tlie painful subject. The hour of the conference is at hand, and I crave your majesty's leave to lepair thither." " No, " said the empress, with a deprecating gesture ; " no. Re- main, good father. Let this conference he held in the presence of the emperor and myself. It is fitting that we botli know the worst in regard to our child. " The emperor bowed acquiescence, and crossing the room, took a seat by tlie side of the empress. He rang a little golden bell ; and the page who came at the sum- mons, was ordered to recjuest tlie attendance of the preceptors of his highness the Crown Prince of Austria. THE ARCHDUKE JOSEPH. 25 Maria Theresa leaned her head upon her hand, and with a sad and perplexed countenance watched the open door. The emperor, with his arm thrown over the gilded back of the divan, looked ear- nestly at the young culprit, who, pale, and with a beating heart, was trying his best to suppress his increasing emotion. "I will not cry, " thought he, scarcely able to resti'aiu his tears ; " for tliat would be a triumph for my detestable teachers. I am not going to give them the pleasure of knowing that I am miser- able." And, by dint of great exertion, he mastered his agitation. He was so successful, that he did not move a muscle nor turn his head when the solemn procession of his accusers entered the room. First, at the head, came Father Porhammer, who gave him les- sons in logic and physic ; after him walked the engineer Briguen, professor of mathematics ; then Herr von Leporini, who instructed him in general history ; HeiT von Bartenstein, who expounded the political history of the house of Austria ; Baron von Beck, who was his instructor in judicature ; and finally, his governor, Count Bathiany, the only one toward whom the young prince felt a grain of good-will. The empress greeted them with grave courtesy, and exhorted them to say without reserve before his parents what they thought of the progress and disposition of the archduke. Count Bathiany, with an encouraging smile directed toward his pupil, assured their majesties that the archduke was anxious to do right — not because he was told so to do by others, but because he followed the dictates of his own conscience. True, his highness would not see through the eyes of any other person ; but this, thougli it might be a defect in a child, would be tlie reverse in a man — above all, in a sovereign. " In proof of the archduke's sincere desire to do right, " continued Count Bathiany, "allow me to repeat to your majesties something which he said to me yesterday. We were reading together Bellegarde on knowledge of self and of human nature. The beautiful thoughts of the author so touched the heart of his highness, that, stopping suddenly, he exclaimed to me, 'We must read this again ; for when I come to the throne I shall need to know, not only mj^self, but other men also. ' " "Well said, my son !" exclaimed the emperor. " I cannot agree with your majesty, " said the empress, coldly. "7 do not think it praiseworthy for a child of his age to look for- ward with complacency to the day when liis mother's death will confer upon him a throne. To me it would seem more natural if Joseph thought more of his present duties and less of his future honors. " A breathless silence followed these bitter words. The emperor, in confusion, withdrew behind the harpsichord. The archduke looked perfectly indifferent. While Count Bathiany had been repeating his words, his face had slightly flushed ; but when he heard the sharp reproof of his mother, he raised his head, and gave her back another defiant look. With the same sullen haughtiness, he stared first at one accuser, and then at another, while each one in his turn gave judgment against him. First, and most vehement in his denuncia- tions, was Count Bartenstein. He denounced the archduke as idle and inattentive. He never would have any political sagacity what- ever. Why, even the great work, in fifteen folios, which he (Count 26 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. Bartenstein) had compiled from the imperial archives for the especial instruction of the prince, even that failed to interest him ! * Then followed the rest of their professorships. One complained of disresjiect ; another of carelessness ; a third of disobedience ; a fourth of irrelif^;ion. All concurred in declaring the archduke to be obstinate, unfeeling, and intractable. His face, meanwhile, grew paler and harder, until it seemed almost to stitTen into marble. Although every censorious word went like a dagger to his sensitive heart, he still kept on murmur- ing to himself, "T will no< cry T will not cry." His mother divined nothing cf the aderick, he will scarcely be so rash as to say nay. The ministers of Louis XV., who wcn'e adverse to our alliance, are about to retire, and the Duke de Choiseul, our firm friend and the favorite of Mme. dc Pompadour, will replace Richelieu. Choiseul seeks our friend- ship, and the day of our triumph is dawning. Svich, your majestj'', are my dreams for Austria ; it rests with you to make them reali- ties !" The empress had listened with increasing interest to every word NEW AUSTRIA. 37 that Kaunitz had spoken. She had risen from her seat, and was pacing the room in a state of high excitement. As he ceased she stopped in front of him, and her large, sparkling orbs of blue glowed with an expression of happiness and hope. " I believe that you are the man for Austria," said she. " I be- lieve that together we can carry out our plans and projects. God grant that they be righteous and just in His sight! You have read my heart, and you know that I can never reconcile myself to the loss of Silesia. You know that between me and Frederick no har- mony can ever exist; no treaty can ever be signed to which he is a party.* I will take the hand of France, not so much for love of herself as for her enmity to I'russia. Will you work with me to make war on Frederick if I appoint you sole minister, Kaunitz? For I tell you that I burn to renew my strife with the King of Prus- sia, and I would rather give him battle to-day than to-morrow." t "I comprehend your majesty's feelings, and fully share them. As soon as France and ourselves understand one another, we will make a league against Frederick, and may easily make him sti'ike the first blow ; for even now he is longing to appropriate another Silesia." " And I am longing to cross swords with him for the one he has stolen. I cannot bear to think of going to my fathers with a diminished inheritance ; I cannot brook the thought that my wo- man's hands have not been strong enough to preserve my rights ; for I feel that if I have the heart of a woman, I have the head of a man. To see Austria great and powerful, to see her men noble and her women virtuous — that is my dx'eam, my hope, my aim in life. You are the one to perfect what I have conceived, Kaunitz ; will you give me your hand to this great work ?" "I will, your majesty, so help me God !" "Will you have Austria's good alone in view, in all that you counsel as ray minister?" "I will, so help me God !" " Will you take counsel with me how we may justly and right- eously govern Austria, without prejudice, without self-love, without thought of worldly fame, not from love or fear of man, but for the sake of God from whose hands we hold our empire ?" "I will, so help me God !" "Then," said Maria Theresa, after a pause, "you are my sole minister, and I empower you to preside over the affairs of state, in tlie manner you may judge fittest for the welfare of the Austrian people. " Kaunitz was as self-possessed a worldling as ever sought to hide his emotions ; but he could not suppress an exclamation of rapture, nor an expression of triumph, which lit up his face as nothing had ever illumined it before. "Your majesty," said he, when he found words, "I accept the ti'ust, and as there is a God above to judge me, I will hold it faith- fully. My days and nights, my youth and age, with their thoughts, their will, their every faculty, shall be laid upon the shrine of Austria's greatness ; and if for one moment I ever sacrifice your majesty to any interest of mine, may I die a death of torture and disgrace !" * Maria Theresa's own words. t Maria Theresas words. Coxe. 406618 38 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. " I believe you ; your countenance reflects your heart, and Al- mighty God has heard your words. One thing remember — that Maria Theresa suffers no minister to dictate to her. She is the reigning sovereign of her people, and will not suffer a finger to be laid upon her imperial righ's. Were he a thousand times prime minister, the man that presumed too far with me I would hurl from his eminence to the lowest depths of disgrace. And now that we understand one another, we will clasp hands like men, who are pledged before God to go their duty. " She extended her hand to Kaunitz, who grasped it in his own, "I swear," said he, solemnly, "to do my duty ; and never can I for- get this hour. I swear to my sovereign, Maria Theresa, loyalty unto death ; and before my empress I bow my knee, and so do homage to the greatest woman of her age. " The empress smiled, while Kaunitz knelt and kissed her fair, jewelled hand. "May God grant that you speak truth, Kaunitz, and may my posterity not have to blush for me ! 'Every thing for Austria, ' shall be your motto and mine ; and this flaming device shall light us on oiu- way through life. Now go, lord high chancel- lor, and see that the world finds a phoenix in the ashes of the old regime which to-day we have consigned to the dust !" * * From tliis time, Kaunitz was the sole minister of the empress ; and he kept his promise to Binder, who became state referendarius, in the place of the once-power- ful Bartenstein. ISABELLA. CHAPTER X. THE YOUNG SOLDIER. Kaunitz's prophecy had been fulfilled. No sooner was it known that Austria and France were allies, than Frederick of Prussia, with all haste, made ti'eaties with England. These opposite alliances were the signal for war. For seven years this war held its blood- stained lash over Austria, and every nation in Europe suffered more or less from its effects. Maria Theresa began it with sharp words, to which Frederick had responded with his sharper sword. The king, through his ambassador, asked the meaning of her ex- tensive military preparations throughout Austria, to which the empress, nettled by the arrogance of the demand, had replied that she believed she had a right to mass troops for the protection of her- self and her allies, without rendering account of her acts to foreign kings. Upon the receipt of this reply, Frederick marched his troops into Saxony, and so began the "Seven Years' War," a war that was prosecuted on both sides with bitter vindictiveness. Throughout Austria the wildest enthusiasm prevailed. Rich and poor, young and old, all rushed to the fight. The warlike sx)irit that pervaded her people made its way to the heart of the empress's eldest son. The Archduke Joseph had for some time been entreat- ing his mother to allow him to join the army ; and, at last, though much against her will, she had yielded to his urgent desire. The day on which news of a victory, near Kunnersdorf, over Frederick, reached the palace, the empress had given her consent, and her son was to be allowed to go in search of laurel-wreaths wherewith to deck his imperial brow. This permission to enter the army ^vas the first great joy of Joseph's life. His heart, at last freed from its weight of conven- tional duties, and forced submission to the requirements of court etiquette, soared high into regions of exultant happiness. His countenance, once so cold and impassible, was now full of joyous changes; his eyes, once so dull and weary, glowed with the fire of awakened enthusiasm, and they looked so brilliant a blue, that it seemed as if some little raj from heaven had found its way into their clear, bright depths. The poor boy was an altered creature. He was frolicsome with his friends ; and as for those whom he con- sidered his enemies, he cared nothing for their likes or dislikes. He had nothing to lose or gain from them ; he was to leave the court, leave Vienna, leave every troublesome remembrance behind, and go. far from all tormentors, to the army. The preparations were at an end ; the archduke had taken formal leave of his mother's court ; this evening he was to spend in the im- 4 40 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. perial family circle ; and early on tlie next morning bis journey would begin. He had just Avritten a last note of farewell to a friend. Alone in his room, he stood before a mirror, contemplat- ing with a smile his own image. He was not looking at his hand- some face, thougli happiness was lending it exqviisite beauty ; the object of his rapturous admiration was the white uniform, which, for the first time, he wore in place of his court- dress. He was no longer the descendant of Charles the Fifth, no longer the son of the empress, he was a soldier — a free, self-sustaining man, whose des- tiny lay in his own hands, and Avhose future deeds would prove him worthy to be the son of his great ancestor. As, almost intoxicated with excess of joy, he stood before the glass, the door opened gently, and a youth of about bis own age entered the room. " Pardon me, your highness, " said the youth, bowing, " if I enter without permission. Doubtless your highness did not hear me knock, and I found no one in your anteroom to announce me." The prince turned around, and reached out his hand, saying, with a laugh : " No, no, you found nobody. I have discharged old Dame Etiquette from my service, and you see before you not his im- perial highness, the Archduke Joseph, crown prince of Austria, but a young soldier, brimful of liappiness, master of nothing but his own sword, with which he means to carve out his fortunes on the battle-field. Oh, Domiuick ! I have dropped the rosary, and taken up the sabre ; and I mean to twist such a forest of laurels about my head, that it will be impossible for me ever to wear a niglit-cap again, were it even sent me as a present from the jiope himself." " Do not talk so loud, you^' highness ; you will frighten tlie pro- prieties out of their wits." Joseph laughed. "Dominick Kauuitz, " said lie, "you are the son of your respected father, no dovibt of it ; for j-ou behave prettily before the bare walls themselves. But fear not, son of the mighty minister, my walls are dumb, and nobody is near to tell tales. We are alone, for I have dismissed all my attendants ; and hei'e I may give loud vent to my liallelujahs, which I now proceed to do by singing you a song which I learned not long ago from an invalid soldier in the street. " And the prince began, in a sonorous bass voice, to sing : " Oh ! the young cannon is my bride 1 Her oranse-wTeath i.s twined with bay, And on the blood-red battle-iield We'll celebrate our wedding-day. Traral traral No priest is there To bless the rites. No " Here young Kaimitz, all etiquette despising, put liis hands be- fore the mouth of the ])rince ; and, while tlie latter strove, in spite of him, to go on witli liis song, he said, in low but anxious tones : "For Heaven's sake, your higlmess, listen to me. You ])lunge yourself wantonly into danger. Do you suppose that your powerful voice does not resound through thi^ corridors of the palace?" "Well, if it /.s" heard, Dominick, what of itV I bid farewell to my ciKMuies. and this is my ' Hosauna. ' You ought to be asliamed of yourself to stop me. IMy tunnentors, you think, have heard the THE YOUNG SOLDIER. 41 beginning of my song ; well, tlie devil take it, but they shall have the end !" Once more the archduke began to sing ; but Dominick caught his arm. "Do you wish," said he, "to have the empress revoke her permission?" The archduke laughed. "Why, Dominick, you are crazed with grief for my loss, I do believe ; the empress revoke her imperial word, noiv, when all my preparations are made, and I go to-morrow ?" "Empresses do revoke their words, and preparations are often made, to be followed by — nothing," i-eplied Dominick. The prince looked in consternation at his yovmg friend. "Are you in earnest, dear Dominick?" asked he. "Do you indeed tliink it possible that I could be hindered from going to the armj-, on the very eve of my departure ?" "I do, 3'our highness." The archduke grew pale, and in a tremulous voice said, "Upon what do you found your supposition, my friend?" "Oh, my dear lord," replied Dominick, "it is no supposition, I fear it is a fact ; and i fear, too, that it is your own fault if this disappointment awaits you. " "Good Heaven!" exclaimed the prince, in tones of anguish, "what can I have done to deserve such fearful chastisement?" "You have displeabcd the empress by neglect of your religious duties. For more than two weeks you have not entered a place of worship ; and, yesterday, wlien the Countess Fuchs remonstrated with your higliuess, you replied with an unseemly jest. You said, ' Dearest countess, I hope to prove to you that, although I neglect mj^ mass, I can be pious on tlie battle-field. Tliere, on the altar of my country, I mean to sacrifice countle* enemies, and that will be an offering quite as pleasing in the sight of God. ' Were those not your words, prince ?" "Yes, yes, they were— but I meant no impiety. My heart was so full of joy that it effervesced in wild words ; but surely my mother cannot mean, for such a harmless jest, to dash my every hope to the earth !" "Oh, your highness, this is only one offence out of many of which you are accused. I have no time to repeat them now, for my errand liere is important and pressing. " "Where learned you all this?" asked the poor archduke. " Bend down your ear, and I will tell you. My father told me every word of it. " "The lord high chancellor? Impossible !" "Yes, it would seem impossible that he should repeat any thing, and therefore you may" know how seriously the matter affects your highness when I tell you that he sent me to warn you." A quick, lo d knock at the door interrupted him, and before the archduke could say "Come in," the Emperor Francis was in the room. His face looked careworn, and he cast a glance of tender compassion upon his son. "My child," said he, "T come to speak to you in private, a thing I cannot compass in my own apartments. " Dominick bowed to take leave, but the emperor withheld him. "Stay," said he, "for you may serve us, Dominick. I know you to be Joseph's best friend, and you will not betray him. But I have no time for words. Tell me quickly, Joseph, is there any secret 42 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. outlet to these apartments? Do you know of any hidden stairway by whicli you could escape from the palace?" "I, father! I have secret doors in my apartments? Is this some new device of my enemies to injure me in the eyes of the empress?" "Hush, hush, Joseph! — How like he is in temperament to his mother ! — Answer me at once ; there is no question of enemies, but of yourself. " "What would you have me do with secret doors and stairways?" asked Joseph. The emperor came close to his son, and, in low, cautious tones, whispered, "I would have you, this very hovir, leave the palace pri- vately, mount your horse, and speed away from Vienna. " "Fly, my dear father?" cried Josejih. "Has it come to this, that the son must fly from the face of his own mother? Am I a criminal, who nuist not be told of what crime I am accused? No, your maj- esty ; if death, or imprisonment for life, were here to threaten me, I would not fly. " " Nor would I counsel flight, my son, were you accused of wrong ; but this is not a question of crime, of poisoned beaker, or of castle dungeon — it is sinqjly this : Do you wish to join the army, or are you ready to give up your commission and stay at home?" " Oh, my dear father, " cried Joseph, " you well know that I have but one desire on earth — and that is, to go. " "Then, hear me. It lias been represented to the empress that your lust for war has made you so reckless, so bloodthirsty, and so im- pious, that camp-life will prove your ruin. In her excess of mater- nal love, she has taken the alarm, and has resolved to shield you from danger by withdrawing her consent to your departure." The archduke's eyes filled with tears. The emperor laid his hand sympathizingly upon liis shoulder. "Do not despair, dear child," said he, tenderly; "perhaps all is not lost, and I may be able to assist you. I can comprehend the nature of your sorrow, for I have suffered the same bitter disappoint- ment. If, instead of leading a useless life, a mere appanage of the empress, I had been permitted to follow the dictates of my heart, and command her armies, I might have — but why speak of my waning career? You are young, and I do not wish to see j'our life darkened by such early disappointment. Therefore, listen to me. You know nothing of the change in your prospects ; you have, as yet, received no orders to remain. Write to your mother, that, preferring to go without the grief of taking leave, you have presumed to start to-night without her knowledge, hoping soon to embrace her again, and lay yom- first-earned laurels at her feet." The archduke hastened to obey his father, and sat down to write. The emperor, meanwhile, signed to young Kaunitz, who had kejit himself respectfully aloof. " Have you a courser, " asked he, " to sell to Joseph, and two good servnnts that can accompany him until his own attendants can be sent after him?" "I came hither, your majesty, prepared to make the same propo- sition, with the fleetest horse in my father's stables, and two trusty servants, well mounted, all of wliich await his highness* at the postern gate. " " Your father's best horse? Then lie knows of this affair?" THE EMPRESS AND HER SON. 43 " It was he who sent me to the archduke's assistance. He told me, in case of necessity, to propose flight, and to be ready for it." "The letter is ready," said the archduke, coming forward. " I myself will hand it to the empress, " said his father, taking it, " and I will tell her that I counselled you to go as you did. " "But dear father, the empress will be angry." "Well, my son," said the emperor, with a peculiar smile, "I have survived so many little passing storms, that I shall doubtless survive this one. The empress has the best and noblest heart in the world, and its sunshine is always brightest after a storm. Go, then, my child, I will answer for your siu and mine. The empress has said nothing to me of her change of purpose ; she looks upon it as a state affair, and with her state affairs I am never made acquainted. Since accident has betrayed it to me, I have a right to use my knowledge in your behalf, and I undertake to appease your motlier. Here is a purse with two thousand louis d'ors ; it is enougli for a few days of incognito. Throw your military cloak about you, and away !" Young Kaunitz laid the cloak upon the shoulders of the arch- duke, whose eyes beamed forth the gratitude that filled his heart. "Oh my father and my sovereign, " said he in a voice that trem- bled with emotion, " my whole life will not be long enough to thank you for what you are doing for me in this critical hour. Till now I have loved you indeed as my father, but lienceforth I must look upon you as my benefactor also, as my dearest and best friend. My heart and my soul are yours, dear father ; may I b(; worthy of your love and of the sacrifice you are making for me to-day !" The emperor folded his son to his heart, and kissed his fair fore- head. " Farewell, dear boy, " whispered he ; " return to me a victor and a hero. May you earn for your father on the battle-field the laurels which he has seen in dreams ! God bless you !" They then left the room, Count Kaunitz leading the way, to see if the passage was clear. "I will go with you as far as the staircase," continued the em- peror, " and then — " At that moment Dominick, who had gone forward into the cor- ridor, rushed back into the room pale and trembling, " It is too late !" exclaimed he in a stifled voice ; " there comes a messenger from the empress !" CHAPTER XI. THE EMPRESS AND HER SON. ^ The young count was not mistaken. It was indeed a message from the empress. It was the marshal of the household, followed by four pages who came to command the presence of the archduke, to whom her majesty wished to impart something of importance. A deadly paleness overspread the face of the young prince, and his whole frame shivered. The emperor felt the shudder, and drew his son's arm closer to his heart. "Courage, my son, courage!" whispered he : then turning toward the imperial embassy, he said aloud, "Announce to her majesty that I will accompany the arch- 44 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. duke in a few moments. " And as the marshal stood irresokite and confused, the emperor, smiling, said: "Oh, I see that you have been ordered to accompany tiie prince yourselves. Come, then, my son, we will e'en go along with the messengers." Maria Theresa was pacing the Hoor of her apartment in great ex- citement. Her large, tiashing eyes now and then turned toward the door ; and whenever she fancied that footsteps approached, she stopped, and seemed almost to gasp with anxiety. Suddenly she turned toward Father Porhammer, who, with the Countess Fuchs, stood by the side of the sofa fi-om which she had risen. "Father," said she, in a tremulous voice, "I cannot tell why it is that, as I await my son's presence here, my heart is over- whelmed with anguish. I feel as if I were about to do him an in- justice, and for all the kingdoms of the world I would not do him wrong. " " Nay, " replied the father, " your majesty is about to rescue that beloved son from destruction ; but as your majesty is a loving motlier, it afflicts you to disappoint your child. Still, our Lord has commanded if the right eye otfend, to pluck it out ; and so is it your majesty's duty to pluck from your sou's heart the evil growing thei-e, even were his heart's blood to follow. The wounds jou may inflict uiion your dear child, for God's sake, will soon be healed by His Almighty hand. " " He was so happj^ to become a soldier !" murmured the empress, who had resumed her agitated walk ; " his eyes were so bright, and h-is bearing was so full of joy and pride ! My boy is so handsome, so like his dear father, that my heart throbs when I see him, as it did in the daj's when we were j'oung lovers ! A laurel-wreath would well become his fair brow, and I — how proudly I should have welcomed my young hero to my heart once more ! Dear, dear boy, nmst I then wake you so rudely from your first dream of am- bition? — I MUST. Ho would come to evil in the lawless life of the camp ; God forgive him, but he is as mad for the fight as Don John of Austria ! I should never see him again ; he would seek death in his first battle. Oh, I could not survive it; my heart would break if I should have to gi\'e up my first-born ! Four of my children lie iu the vaults of St. Stephen's — I cannot part with my Joseph ! Countess, " she said, turning suddenly to her lady of honor, " is it not true that Jose])h told you he thought that the altar of the battle-field and the sacrifice of his enemies was — " "His majesty the emperor and his imperial highness, the Arch- duke Josepli !" said the marshal of tlie household ; and the door was flung open for their entrance. Maria Theresa advanced, and bowed slightly to the emperor. "Your majesty's visit at this unusual hour surprises me, "said *she with emphasis. " I am aware, " replied the emperor graciously, " that I was not expected ; but as this is the last day of our son's residence vmder the parental roof, I am sure that my wife will see nothing strange in my visit. I was with the archduke when your majesty's message readied him, and knowing tliat you coidd have no secrets with the son wliich the father might not hear, I followed the impulse of my affection, and cauK? with him." "And wliat signifies this singular and unseemly dress in which my son presents himself before his sovereign?" asked Maria Theresa, THE EMPRESS AND HER SON. 45 angrily surveyiug the uniform wliicli, nevertheless, she acknowl- edged in her heart was be3'oud expression becoming to him. "Pardon me, your majesty," replied the son, "I had tried on the uniform, and if I was to obey your summons at once, there was no time for a change in my dress. " "And, indeed, " said the emperor, "I think the dress becoming. Our boy will make a tine-looking soldier. " The empress being precisely of that opinion herself, was so much the more vexed at her husband for giving it expression. She bit her lip, and her brow contracted, as was usual with her when she was growing angry. "You held it then as a fact, my son, that you were a soldier?" said she, catching her breath with anxiety. Joseph raised his fine eyes, with an imploring expression, to the face of his mother. "Your majesty had promised me that I should be a soldier, " replied he firmly, "and I have never yet known my mother to break her imperial word to the least of her subjects. " "Hear him!" cried the empress, with a laugh of derision, "he almost threatens me ! This young sir will try to make it a point of honor with me to keep my word. " " Pardon me, your majesty, " replied Joseph calmly, " I have never allowed myself to doubt your imperial word for one moment of my life. " "Well, then, your highness has my i?nj3e7'i'oZ permission to doubt it now," cried the empress, severely humiliated by the implied rebuke ; " I allow you to doubt whether I will ever hold promises that have been rashly and injudiciously made." "Why, your majesty," cried the emperor, "surely you will not retract your word in the face of the whole world, that knows of Joseph's appointment !" "What to me is the opinion of the world?" returned the haughty empress. " To God and my conscience alone I am responsible for my acts, and to them I will answer it that I take back my promise, and declare that Joseph shall not go into the army !" Joseph uttered a cry of anguish. " Mother ! mother !" sobbed the unhappy boy, " it cannot be !" "Why can it not be?" said the empress, haughtily. "Because it would be a cruel and heartless deed," cried the arch- duke, losing all control over himself, " so to make sport of my holiest and purest hopes in life ; and because I never, never can believe that my own mother would seek to break my heart. " The empress was about to return a scathing reply, when the em- peror laid his gentle hand upon her shoulder, and the words died upon her lips. "I beseech of you, my wife," said he, "to remember that we are not alone. Joseph is no child ; and it ill becomes any but his par- ents to witness his humiliation. Have the goodness, then, to dis- miss your attendants, and let us deal with our son alone." "Why shall I dismiss them?" cried the empress, "they are my trusty confidants ; and they have a right to hear all that the future Emperor of Austria presumes to say to his mother !" "Pardon me," replied the emperor, " I differ with you, and desire that they should not hear our famih' discussions. In these things I too have my right ; and if your majesty does not command them to leave the room, I do, " 46 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. Maria Theresa looked at the counteuance of her husband, which was firm and resolved in its expression. In her confusion she could find no retort. The emperor waited awhile, and seeing that she did not speak, he turned toward the two followers, who stood, without moving, at their posts. " I request tlie Countess Fuchs and Father Porhammer to leave the room," said he, with dignity. "Family concerns are discussed in private. " The pair did not go. Father Porhammer interrogated the face of the empress ; and the countess, indignant that her curiosity was to be frustrated, looked defiant. This bold disregard of her husband's command was irritating to the feelings of the empress. She thought that his oi'ders should have outweighed her mere remonstrance, and she now felt it her duty to signify as much. " Countess Fuchs, " said she, " doubtless the emperor has not spoken loud enough for you to hear the command lie has just given you. You have not understood his words, and I will take the trouble to repeat them. The emperor said, 'I request the Countess Fuchs and Father Porhammer to leave the room. Our family concerns we will discuss in private. '" The lady of honor colored, and, with deep inclinations, Father Porhammer and herself left the room. Maria Theresa looked after them until the door was shut, then she smilingly reached her hand to the emperor, who thanked her with a pressure and a look of deepest affection. The archduke had retired to the embrasure of a window, perhaps to seek composure, perhaps to hide his tears. "Now," said Maria Theresa, sternly, while her fiery eyes sought the figure of her son, "now we are alone, and Joseph is at liberty to speak. I beg him to remember, that in the person of his mother, he also sees his sovereign, and that the empress will resent every word of disloyalty spoken to the parent. And I hold it to be highly disloyal for my son to accuse me of making sport of his hopes. I have not come to my latest determination from cruelty or caprice ; I have made it in the strength of my maternal love to shield my child from sin, and in the rectitude of my imperial responsibility to my people, wlio have a riglit to claim from me that I bestow upon them a monarch wlio is wortliy to reign over Austria. Therefore, my son, as empress and mother, I say that you shall remain. That is now my unalterable will. If this decision grieves you, be liumble and submissive ; and remember that it is your duty, as son and sub- ject, to obey without demurring. Then shall we be good friends, and greet one another heartily, as though you had at this moment returned from the victorious battle-field. There is my hand. Be welcome, my dear and much-beloved child." The heart of the empress had gradually softened, and as she smiled and extended her liand, her beautiful eyes were filled to overflowing with tears. But Joseph, deathly pale, crossed his arms, and returned her glances of love with a haughty, defiant look, that almost approached to dislike. " My son, " said the emperor, " do you not see your dear mother's hand extended to meet yours?" "I see it, I see it," cried Joseph, passionately, "but I cannot take it — I cannot play my part in this mockery of a return. No, mother, THE EMPRESS AND HER SON. 47 no, I cannot kiss the hand that has so cruelly dashed my hopes to earth. And you wish to carry your tyranny so far as to exact that I receive it with a smile? Oh, mother, my heart is breaking ! Have pity on me, and take back those cruel words ; let me go, let me go. Do not make me a byword for the world, that hereafter will refuse me its respect. Let me go, if but for a few weeks, and on the day that you command my return, I will come home. Oh, my heart was too small to hold the love I bore you for your consent to my departure. It seemed to me that I had just begun to live ; the world was full of beauty, and I forgot all the trials of my childhood. For one week I have been young, dear mother ; hurl me not back again into that dark dungeon of solitude where so much of my short life has been spent. Do not condemn me to live as I have hitherto lived ; give me freedom, give me my manhood's rights !" "No, no! a thousand times no!" cried the exasperated empress; " I see now that I am right to keep such an unfeeling and ungrateful son at home. He talks of his sufferings forsooth ! What has he ever suffered at my hands?" "What have I suffered?" exclaimed Joseph, whose teeth chattered as if he were having a chill, and who was no longer in a state to suppress the terrible eruption of his heart's agony. "What have I suffered, ask you? I will tell you, empress-mother, what I have suffered since first I could love, or think, or endure. As a child I have felt that my mother loved another son more than she loved me. When my longing eyes sought hers, they were riveted upon another face. When my brother and I have sinned together, he has been forgiven, when I have been punished. Sorrow and jealousy were in my heart, and no one cared enough for me to ask why I wept. I was left to suffer without one word of kindness — and you wondered that I was tacitvirn, and mocked at my slighted longings for love, and called them by hard names. And then you pointed to my caressed and indulged brother, and bade me be gay like him !" "My son, my son!" cried the emperor, "control yourself; you know not what you say. " " Let him go on, Francis, " said the pale mother, " it is well that I should know his heart at last. " "Yes," continued the maddened archduke, "let me go on, for in my heart there is nothing but misery and slighted affection. Oh, mother, mother !" exclaimed he, suddenly changing from defiance to the most pathetic entreaty, "on my knees I implore you to let me go ; have mercy, have mercy upon your wretched son !" And the young prince, with outstretched hands, threw himself upon his knees before his mother. The long-suppressed tears gushed forth, and the wild tempest of his ungovernable fury was spent, and now he sobbed as if indeed his young heart was breaking. Th emperor could scarcely restrain the impulse he felt to weep with his son ; but he came and laid his hand upon the poor boy's head, and looked with passionate entreaty at the empress. "Dear Theresa," said he, "be compassionate and forgiving. Pardon him, beloved, the hard and unjust words which, in the bitterness of a first sorrow, he has spoken to the best of mothers. Raise him up from the depths of his despair, and grant the boon, for which, I am sure, he will love you beyond bounds." " I wish that I dared to grant it to yourself, Francis, " replied the empress, sadly and tearfully ; "but you see that he has made it im- 48 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. possible. I dare not do it. The mother has no right to plead with tlie empress for her rebellious son. What he has said I freely for- give — God grant that I may forget it ! Well do 1 know how stormy is youth, and I remember that Joseph is my son. It is the wild Spanish blood of my ancestry that boils in his veins, and, therefore, I forgive him Avith all my heart. But revoke my last sentence — that I cannot do. To do so would be to confirm him in wrong. Rise, my son Joseph — I forgive all your cruel words ; but what I have said, I have said. You remain at home. " Joseph rose slowly from his knees. The tears in his eyes were dried ; his lips were compressed, and once more he wore the old look of cold and sullen indifference. He made a profound inclina- tion before his mother. "I have heard the empress's commands, " said he, in a hoarse and unnatural voice; "it is my duty to obey. Allow me to go to my prison, tliat I may doff this manly garb, which is no longer suitable to my blasted career." Without awaiting the answer, he turned away, and with hasty strides left the room. The empress Avatched him in speechless anxiety. As the door closed upon him, her features assumed an expression of tenderness, and she said: "Go i|uickly, Franz — go after him. Try to comfort and sustain him. I do not know why, but I feel uneasy — " At that moment a cry was heard in the anteroom, and the fall of a heavy body to the floor. "God help me — it is Joseph !" shrieked the empress ; and, forget- ting all ceremony, she darted from the room, and rushed by her dismayed attendants through the anteroom, out into the corridor. Stretched on the floor, insensible and lifeless, lay her son. Withovit a word the empress waved off the crowd that was assem- bled around his body. The might of her love gave her supernatural strength, and folding her arms around her child, she covei'ed his pale face with kisses, and from the very midst of the frightened attendants she bore him herself to her room, where she laid him softly upon her own bed. No one except the emperor had ventured to follow. He stood near, and reached the salts, to which the empress had silently pointed. She rubbed her son's temples, held the salts to his nostrils, and at last, when he gave signs of life, she turned to the emperor and burst into tears. "Oh, Franz," said she, "I almost Avish that he were sick, that day and nif;ht I might Avatch by his bedside, and his poor heart miglit feel the full extent of a mother's love for her first-born child. " Perhajjs (Jod granted her prayer, that these tAvo noble hearts might no longer be estranged, but that each might at last meet the other in the fullest confidence of mutual love. A A'iolent attack of feA-er followed the SAvoon of the archduke. The empress never left his side. He slept in her own room, and she A\'atch(>d over liim AAnth gentlest and most affectionate care. WheneA'er Joseph awaked from his fever- dreams and unclosed his eyes, there, close to his bedside, he saAV the empress, who greeted him Avith loving Avords and softest caresses. WhencA-er, in his fever-thirst, he called for drink, her hnnd held the cup to his parched lips ; and wlienever tliat soft, cool hand was laid u])on his hot broAV, he felt as if its touch chased away all pain and soothed all sorroAv. When he recovered enough to sit up, still his mother would not THE EMPRESS AND HER SON. 49 consent for him to leave hei- room for his own. As long as he was an invalid, he should be hers alone. In her room, and through her loving care, should he find returning health. His sisters and brothers assembled there to cheer him with tlieir childish mirth, and his young- friend, Dominick Kaunitz, came daily to entertain him with his lively gossip. Altogetlier, the archduke was happy. If he had lost fame, he had found love. One day, when, cushioned in his great soft arm-chair, he was chatting with his favorite tutor, Count Bathiany, the empress entered the room, her face lit up with a happy smile, while in her hands she held an etui of red morocco. "What think you I liave in this etui, dear?" she said, coming forward, and bending over her son to bestow a kiss. " I do not know ; but I guess it is some new gift of love from my mother's dear hand." "Yes — rightly guessed. It is a genuine gift of love, and, with God's grace, it may prove the brightest gift in your future crown. Since I would not let you leave my house, my sou, I feel it my duty, at least, to do my best to make your home a happy one. I also wish to show you that, in my sight, you are no longer a boy, but a man worthy to govern your own household. Look at the picture in this case, and if it pleases you, my darling son, I give you, not only the portrait, but the original also. " She lianded him the case, in which lay the miniature of a young girl of surpassing beauty, whose large, dark eyes seemed to gaze upon liiin with a look of melancholy entreaty. Tlie archduke contemplated the picture for some time, and grad- ually over his pale face there stole a flush of vague delight. "Well !" asked the empress, "does the maiden please you?" "Please me!" echoed the archduke, without withdrawing his eyes from the picture. " 'Tis the image of an angel 1 There is sometliing in her look so beseeching, something in her smile so sad, that I feel as if I would fall at her feet and weep ; aud yet, mother — " " Hear him, Franz, " cried Maria Tlieresa to the emperor, who, unobserved by his son, had entered the i-oom. "Hear our own child ! love in his heart will be a sentiment as holy, as faithful, and as profound as it has been with us for many happy years ! Will you have the angel for your wife, Joseph?" The archduke raised his expressive eyes to the face of his mother. "If I will have her!" murmured he, sadly. "Dear mother, would she deign to look upon me? Will she not rather turn away from him to whom the whole world is indifferent?" "My precious child, she will love and honor you, as the world will do, when it comes to know your noble heart. " And once more the empress bent over her son and imprinted a kiss upon his pale brow. "It is settled then, my son, that you shall offer your hand to this beautiful girl. In one week you will have attained your nine- teenth birthday, and you shall give a good example to your sisters. Do you like the prospect?" " Yes, dear mother, I am perfectly satisfied. " " And you do not ask her name or rank ?" " You have chosen her for me ; and I take her from your hand without name or rank. " "Well," cried the delighted empress, "Count Bathiany, you have ever been the favorite preceptor of the archduke. Upon you, then, 50 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. ' shall this honorable mission devolve. To-morrow, as ambassador extraordinary from our court, you shall go in state to ask of Don Philip of Parma the hand of his daughter Isabella for his imj)erial highness, the crown prince of Austria. " CHAPTER XII. AN ITALIAN^ NIGHT. The moon is up, but she is hidden behind heavy masses of clouds — welcome clouds that shelter lovers' secrets. The fountains, whose silvery showers keep such sweet time to the murmurings of love, plash gently on, hushing the sound of lovers' voices ; on the bosom of yonder marble -cinctured lake, two snow-white swans are floating silently ; and, far amid groves of myrtle and olive, the nightingale warbles her notes of love. Not a step echoes through the long avenues of the ducal park, not a light glimmers from the windows of the ducal palace. 'Tis the hour of midnight, and gentle sleep hath come to all. To all, save two. Stay yet awhile behind the cloud, O tell-tale moon ! for there — there are the lovers. See where fair Juliet leans from the marble balcony ; while Romeo, below, whispers of plighted vows that naught shall cancel save — death ! "To-morrow, beloved, to-morrow, thou wilt be mine forever?" "I will be thine in the face of the whole world." "And wilt thou never repent? Hast thou strength to brave the world's scorn for my sake?" " Do I need strength to stretch forth my hand for that which is dearer to me than all the world beside? Oh, there is selfishness in my love, Riccardo, for it loses sight of the dangers that will threaten thee on the day when thou callest me wife !" " Tliere is but one danger, dearest — that of losing thee ! I know no other." "Still, be cautious, for my sake. Remember, we live on Spanish soil, though Italy's skies are overhead; and Spanish vengeance is sharp and swift. Betray not thy hopes by smile or glance — in a few days we will be far away in the paradise where our happiness shall be hidden from all eyes, save those of angels. Be guarded, there- fore,
  • ar one — for see ! Even now the moon is forth again in all her splendor ; and were my father's sjjies to track thee ! — Gracious Heaven, go ! Think of Spanish daggers, and let us part for a few short hours. " " Well, I will go, strengthened to turn my eyes from thy beauty, by thoughts of to-morrow's bliss ! In the chapel I await thee." "I will be there. The priest will not betray us?" "He was the friend of my childhood — we may trust him, Isabella. " "Then, Heaven bless thee! good-night. Hark I — did I not heai something rustle in the tliicket?" "The wind sighing through the pine-trees, love." "Then, adieu, till morning." "Adieu, sweet one !" Tlie moon burst forth in fidl radiance, and revealed the manly AN ITALIAN NIGHT. 51 form that hurried through the avenue ; while clear as in noonday could be seen the slender white figure that watched his retreating steps. He is hidden now, but she still lingers, listening enraptured to the fountain's murmur and the nightingale's song ; looking upward at the moon as she wandered through heaven's pathless way, and thinking that never had earth or sky seemed so lovely before — But hark ! What sounds are those ? A cry, a fearful cry rends the air ; and it comes from the thicket where, a moment before, he disappeared from her sight. She started — then, breathless as a statue, she listened in deadly suspense. Again that cry, that dreadful cry, pierces through the stillness of the night, freezing her young heart with horror ! " His death-wail !" cried the wretched girl ; and careless of dan- ger, scarce knowing what she did, heeding nothing but the sound of her lover's voice, she sprang from the balcony, and as though moonbeams had drawn her thither, she swung herself to the ground. For one monient her slight form wavered, then she darted forward and flew through the avenue to the thicket. Away she sped, though the moon shone so bright that she could be distinctly seen, her own shadow following like a dusky phantom behind. Be friendly, now, fair moon, and light her to her lover, that she may look into his eyes once more before they close forever ! She has reached the spot, and, with a low cry, she throws herself by the side of the tall figure that lies stretched at its length upon the green sward. Yes, it is he ; he whom she loves ; the soul of her soul, the life of her life ! And he lies cold and motionless, his eyes staring blindly upon the heavens, his purple lips unclosing to exhale his last sighs, while from two hideous wovmds in his side the blood streams over the Avhite dress of his betrothed. But he is not dead ; his blood is still warm. She bends over and kisses his cold lips ; she tears her lace mantle from lier slioulders, aud, pressing it to his wounds, tries to stanch the life-blood welling from his side. The mantle grows scarlet with his gore, but the lips are whiter and colder with each kiss. She knows, alas ! that there is one nearer to him now^ than she — Azrael is between her and her lover. He grows colder, stiffer ; and — O God ! — the death - rattle ! " Take me with thee ; take me, take me !" screamed the despair- ing girl ; and her arms clasped frantically around the body, until they seemed as if they were indeed stiffening into one eternal embrace. " Have pity, Riccardo ! My life, my soul, leave me not here without thee ! One word — one look, beloved !" She stared at him in wild despair, and seeing that he made no sign of response to her passionate appeal, she raised her hands to heaven, and kneeling by his side, she prayed. "O God, merciful God, take not his fleeting life until he has given me one last word — until he has told me how long we shall be parted !" Her arms sank heavily down, and she sought the face of the dying man, whispering — oh, how tenderly! — "Hear me, my own; tell me when I .shall follow thee to heaven !" She ceased, for suddenly she felt him tremble ; his eyes moved 52 ■ JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. until they met hers, and once more a smile flitted across those blanched lips. He raised his head, and slowly his body moved, until, supported in Jier arms, he sat erect. Enraptured, he laid her cheek to his, and waited ; for love had called him back to life, and he would speak. " We shall meet again in three — " He fell back, and with a last cry expired. Love had struggled hard with death ; but death had won the victory. • Isabel shed no tears. She closed her lover's ej'es ; gave him one long, last kiss ; and, as she bent over him, her hair was soaked in his blood. She took the mantle, wet with gore, and pressed it to her heart. "Precious mantle," said she, ''we need not part; in three days — or. perchance he said three hours — we shall lie together in the coffin ! Until then, Riccardo, farewell !" Slowly she turned and left the horrible place. Wthout faltering, she came up the long moonlit avenue, her head thrown back, and her large, lustrous eyes fixed upon heaven, as though slie sought to find her lover's soul somewhere among the floating clouds. The moon flung its radiance around her path ; and ever, as she walked, it grew brighter, until the poor, stricken child of earth looked like a glori fled saint. "God grant that it be three hours !" murmured she ; "three days were an eternity !" She reached the palace, without having thought that there was no door open by which she could enter, when suddenly a form emerged from the shadowed wall, and a woman's voice whispered : "Quick, for Heaven's sake ! the side-door is open, and all in the palace sleep !" "I, too, in three hours shall sleej) !" cried Isabella, triumphantly, and with these words she fell to the ground in a swoon. * CHAPTER XIII. ISABELLA OF PARMA. The Princess Isabella slept unusuallj^ late the next morning. Her little bell, that summoned the ladies of lionor, had not yet rung, and the day was far advanced. The first cameiHera seemed troubled, and whispered her apprehensions that the princess was sick ; for she had observed, for some days, she said, that her highness had looked pale. " But we must go into her room, ladies, " added she ; " for it is almost time for her highness to visit the duke, and he never for- gives an omission of ceremonial. Follow me, then ; /will under- take to awaken the princess. " She opened the door softly, and entered the sleeping-room of the princess, followed by the other maids of lionor. "She sleeps yet, "said the cameriera; "but I 7)iust waken her," murmured she to herself, " it is my duty." She advanced, and drew aside the heavy folds of the pink- silk curtains that hung around the bed. "Pardon me, your liighness, " slio wliispered ; "but — " She stojjped ; for, to lier great surjjrise, tlie princess was awake. She lay in her long white niglit-dress, with her hands crossed over her * Caroline Pichler, "Memoirs of My Life. " Part I. page 139. ISABELLA OF PARMA. 53 breast, and her head cushioned on the rose-colored pillow that con- trasted painfully with the pallor of her marble-white face. Her large eyes were distended, and fixed upon a picture of the blessed Virgin that hung at the foot of the bed. Slowly her looks turned upon her attendants, who, breatliless and frightened, gazed upon the rosy pillow, and the pallid face that lay in its midst, dazzling their eyes with its whiteness. " Pardon me, " again whispered the eameriera, " it is almost noonday. " " What hour?" murmured the princess. "It is ten o'clock, your highness." Tlie princess sliivered, and exclaimed, "For three daj-s, then!" And turning away, she began to pray in a low voice, and none but God knew the meaning of that whispered prayer. Her prayer over, she passed lier little wliite hand over the dark locks that fell around her face and made an effort to rise. Her maids of honor saw that she was ill, and hastened to assist her. The hour of the princess's toilet was to her attendants the most delightful hour of the day. From her bedchamber all cere- monial was banislied ; and there, with her young companions, Isabella was accustomed to laugh, jest, sing, and be as merry and as free from care as the least of her father's subjects. Pliilip of Parma was by birtli a Spaniard, one of the sons of Philip the Fifth. After the vicissitudes of war which wrested Naples and Parma from the hands of Austria, Don Carlos of Spain became king of Naples, and Don Philip, duke of Parma. Isabella, then a child of seven years, had been allowed the privilege of taking with her to Italy her young playmates, who, for form's sake, as she grew older, became her maids of honor. But they were her dear and chosen friends, and with them she was accustomed to speak the Spanish language onlJ^ Her mother, daughter of Louis XV. , had introduced French cus- toms into the court of Parma, and during her life the gayety and grace of French manners had rendered that court one of the most attractive in Europe. But the lovely Duchess of Parma died, and with her died all that made court life endurable. The French lan- guage was forbidden, and French customs were banished. Some said that the duke had loved his wife so deeply, that in liis grief he had excluded from his court every thing suggestive of his past hap- piness. Others contended that he had made her life so wretched by his jealous and tyrannical conduct, that remorse had driven him to . banish, if possible, every reminder of the woman whom he had almost murdered. In the hearts of her children the mother's memory was en- shrined ; and the brother and sister were accustomed for her sake, in their private intercoiu'se, to speak ]ter language altogether. At court they spoke the language of the country ; and Isabella — who with her friends sang boZeros and danced the cachuca ; with her brother, read Racine and Corneille — was equally happy while she hung enraptured upon the strains of Pergolese's music, or gazed entranced upon the jiictures of Correggio and the Veronese. The princess herself was both a painter and musician, and no one, more than she, loved Italy and Italian art. Such, until this wretched morning, had been the life of young Isabella. What was she nowV A cold, white image, in whose 54 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. staring eyes the light was quenched — from whose blanched lips the smile had fled forever ! Her grieved attendants could scarcely suppress their tears, as sadly and silently they arrayed her in her rich robes ; while she, not seeming to know where she was, gazed at her own reflected image, with a look of stupid horror. They dressed her beautiful hair, and bound it up in massy braids. They smoothed it over her death-cold forehead, and shuddered to see how like a corpse she looked. At last the task was at an end, and the cameriera coming toward her, offered the cup of chocolate which she was accustomed to drink at that hour. Tenderly she besought the unhappy giri to partake of it, but Isabella waved away tlie cup, saying : " Dear friend, offer me no earthly food. I pine for the banquet of angels. Let the chaplain be called to bring the viaticum. I wish to receive the last sacraments of the dying. " A cry of horror burst from the lips of the maids of honor. " The chaplain ! The last sacraments ! For you, my beloved child?" asked the sobbing eamcWera. " For me, " replied Isabella. "Heavenly Father!" exclaimed the aja. "Have you then pre- sumed to anticipate the will of God, and to go before His presence, uncalled?" " No, no, death will come to me, I will not seek it. I will endure life as long as God wills, but, in three days, I shall be called hence. " The young girls crowded around her, weeping, and imploring her not to leave them. Isabella's white lips parted with a strange smile. "You tell me not to die, dear friends; do you not see that I am already dead? My heart is bleeding. " The hand of the cameriera was laid upon her arm, and she whis- pered : "My child, be silent ; you know not what you say." Isabella bowed her head, and then looking tenderly around at her kneeling companions, she said : "Rise and sit by me, my dear girls, and listen to what I am about to say, for we speak together for the last time on earth. " The maidens arose, and obeyed, while Isabella leaned her head for a few moments upon the bosom of her mother's friend, the came- 1'iera. There was a pause, during which the poor girl seemed to have received some comfort in those friendly arms ; for she finally sighed, and, raising her head again, she spoke solemnly, but not unnaturally. "I had last night a singular vision," she said. "The spirit of my motlier ajipoared to me, and said that in three days I was to die. I believe in this vision. Do not weep, dear sisters ; I go to eternal rest. Life is bitter, deatli is sweet. Pray for me, that my mother's pr()])heticwor(lsl)everilie(l ; and you, beloved friend of thatmother," added she, kissing i\\o canieriera' s cheek, "you who know the depths of my heart, and its secret, silent agony, pray for your child, and praying, ask of hc»r heavenly Father — death." The (tja made no re])ly, she was wee))ing with the others. Isabella contemplated the grou]) for a moment, while a ray of life lit \\\^ her eyes, showing that, ev(>n now, it was sad to part from her friends forever. But tlie expression was momentary. Her face returned to its deadly paleness, as gasping for breath, she stammered : " Now — now— for— my father ! Estrella, go to the apartments of the duke, and say that I desire an interview with his royal highness." ISABELLA OF PARMA. 55 The young girl returned in a few moments with an answer. His royal highness had that morning gone some distance in the country on a hunting excursion, and would be absent for several days. Isabella looked at the cameriera, who still stood beside her, and her pale lijis quivered. "Did I not know it?" whispered she; "1 told you truly, HE did it ! God forgive him, I cannot. — And now," continued she, aloud, " now to my last earthly affairs. " So saying, she called for her caskets of jewels and divided them between the young maids of honor ; and cutting from her liair one rich, massy lock, she placed it in Estrella's hand, saying, "Share it among you all. " To the cameriera she gave a sealed packet, and then bade them leave her to herself ; for the ringing of the chapel bell announced the departure of the priest thence, with the blessed sacrament. The sacred rites were ended. On her knees the Princess Isabella had made her confession, and had revealed to the shuddering priest the horrible secrets of the preceding night. She had received abso- lution, and had partaken of the holy communion. "Now, my child," said the priest, in a voice ti-emulous with sympathy, "you have received the blessing of God, and you are prepared for His coming. May He be merciful to you, and grant your prayer for release from this earth ! I, too, will pray that your martyrdom be short. " "Amen !" softly murmured Isabella. " But the ways of the Lord are inscrutable, and it may be that He wills it otherwise. If, in His incomprehensible wisdom. He should declare that your days shall be long on this earth, promise me to endure your lot with resignation, nor seek to hasten what He has deemed it best to delay ?" "I promise, holy father. " "Make a vow, then, to the Lord, that by the memory of your mother you will fulfd every duty tliat {)resents itself to you in life, until God has spoken tlie word that will csall you to Himself. " " I swear, by the memory of my mother, that I will live a life of resignation and of usefulness until God in His mercy, shall free me from my prison. " "Right, dear unhappy child," said the father, smoothing, with his trembling hands, the soft hair that lay on either side of her fore- head. "May God reward thee, and in His infinite mercy shorten thy sufferings !" He stooped, and kissing her pale brow, made the sign of the cross above her kneeling figure. Then, witli eyes blinded by tears, he slowly retreated to liis own room, where he threw himself upon his knees and prayed that God would give strength to them both to bear the cross of that dreadful secret. Isabella, too, remained alone. In feverish longing for death, she sat, neither hearing the voices of her friends who begged for admission, nor the pleadings of her brother, who besought her to see him and give him one last embrace. Through the long night that followed, still kneeling, she prayed. When the sun rose, she murmured, "To-morrow !" and through the day her fancy wandered to the verge of madness. Sometimes visions of beckoning angels swarmed around her ; then they fled, and in their places stood a hideous skeleton, that, with ghastly smile, held out his fleshless hand, and strove to clasp hers. 5 66 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. Again the night set in, and the next morning at break of day, Isabella rose from her knees, and, hailing the rising sun, cried ex- ultingly, "To-day I" Exhausted from fasting and such long vigils, her head reeled, and she staggered to her couch. A cold shudder crept over her limbs ; all was dark as niglit about her ; she tried to clasp her hands in prayer and could not, for they were numb and powerless. "This is welcome death !" thought she, and her lips parted with a happy smile. Her head fell backward on the pillow, and her senses fled. CHAPTER XIV. THE AMBASSADOR EXTRAORDINARY. The Princess Isabella opened her eyes, and in their dark and lustrous depths shone returning reason ; they glared no more with fever-madness, but were sadder and sweeter tlian ever. She gazed at the forms that surrounded her bedside ; at the priest, who, with folded hands, was praying at her head ; at the cameriera, who knelt beside him ; at the young girls, who, gathered in a lovel)' group at her feet, smiled and wept by turns as she looked upon them ; and lastly, she felt a kiss upon her hand, and, looking there, she beheld her l)rother, who wept with joy. "Where am I?" asked she, feebly. "You are with those who love you best, darling," said Fernando, joyfully. "With us, who have prayed so long, that the good God has heard and restored you to life. " "I still live, then," said she, sadly. "And how long have I lain here, friends?" The priest advanced, and blessing her, took her by the hand. "For four weeks, daughter, you have been unconscious of every thing that passed around you. You see, therefore, that your heav- enly Father bids you live. " "Four weeks?" whispered the poor girl. "Then, in three months we shall meet again. " She closed her eyes, and lay silent for a while. At length, the priest, bending close to lier ear, whispered, "Think, daughter, of the vows, which, by the memory of your mother, you have made to God !" "I will remember them," murmiu-ed she, sadly. And from this day she mended, mitil life and strength were re- stored to her even as before. Slie thought of her vow, ajul made no resistance to the will of Heaven ; but she hoped for death, and awaited her three months. Sustained by tlH\se hopes, she recovered. But her heart was wounded ])ast all ciu'e ; gone M'ere lier smiles and her songs. Quietly, sadly, and solemnly glided away the new life to which she had been born through death. Tlie first day on whicOi slie ffilt able to leave her room, she sent to crave an audience of her father. She liad been tol room. The duke looked after her svilh an e.\pi-ession of sorrow. "I have THE AMBASSADOR EXTRAORDINARY. 59 lost her forever !" said he. " When I sti'uck him, I pierced her heart also. Well, so let it be ! Better a dead child than a dishonored house !" He then rang a little golden bell, and ordered preparations to be made for another grand hunt on the morrow. Isabella accepted her destiny nobly. She resolved to fulfil her promises strictly : but she hoped that God would be satisfied with the sacrifice, and release her before the day of her nuptials. Finally came the day on which, for the third time, she had hoped to die. She felt a solemn joy steal over her heart, and she desired her maids of honor to deck her in bridal white. Her dark hair was wreathed with orange-blossoms, and in her bosom she wore ar* orange-bud. She was lovely beyond expi'ession, and her attendants whispered among themselves, though Isabella neither saw nor heard them. She who awaited death took no heed of what was going on around her in the palace. And yet her stake in that palace was great. On the day before the embassy had arrived, which was to change her fate, and open to her a new life at the court of the Austrian empress. The duke had received his guests with royal courtesy. But he had besought the count to postiwne his interview with the princess until the morrow ; for with cruel mockery of his child's sorrow, Philip of Parma had contrived that the day on which she had hoped to meet her dead lover, should be the day of lier betrothal to the Ai'chduke of Austria. Isabella was the only person in the palace who had not heard of the arrival. She had withdrawn into her private cabinet, and there she counted every pulsation of her heart. She dared not liope to die a natural death ; she was looking forward to some accident that was to release her from life ; something direct from the hand of God slie thought would, on that daj', make good the prophecy of her lover. Slie hoped, watched, prayed. She was startled from her solitude by a knocking at the door, and her father's voice called for admis- sion. Tlie princes, obedient to her promise, rose and opened the door. Her father surveyed her with a smile of derision. " Yoii have done well," said he, "to deck yourself as a bride; not as the bride of Death, but as the afiianced wife of the living lover who will one day make you empress of Austria. His amba.ssador awaits us now in the great hall of state. Follow me into the next room, where your maids of honor are assembled to attend you. Mark me, Isabella ! When we arrive in the hall, the ambassador will advance, and in terms befitting the honor conferred, he will request your acceptance of the archduke's hand. I leave it to your tact and discretion to answer him as becomes theprincess of a great and royal house." "And will your highness perform your promise to me 9^'' asked Isabella calmly. "Shall his parents live secure in possession ot their noble name and estates ; and shall his sister be the special ob- ject of your highness 's protection and favor?" "I will do all this, provided you give me satisfaction as relates to your marriage. " Isabella bowed. "Then I am ready to accompany your royal highness to the hall of state, and to accept with courtesy the ofter of the Austrian ambassador." Forth went the beautiful martj'r and her train through the goi • CO JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. geous apartments of the palace, until they reached the hall of the throne. In the centre of the hall the duke left his daughter and her attendants, while he mounted the throne and took his seat upon the ducal chair. And now advanced Count Bathiany. With all the fervor which her matchless beauty inspired, he begged of the princess her fair hand for his future sovereign the Archduke of Austria. As tlie count ceased, every eye turned toward the infanta. She had listened with calm dignity to the words of the ambassador, and her large, melancholy eyes had been riveted upon his face while he delivered his errand. Tliere was a pause — a few moments were needed by that broken heart to hush its moanings, and bare itself for the sac- rifice. The brow of the duke darkened, and he was about to inter- pose, when lie saw his daughter bow her head. Then she spoke, and every one bent forward to listen to the silvery tones of her voice. " I feel deeply honored, " said she, " by the preference of her im- perial majesty of Austria ; an alliance v.-ith her eldest son is above my deserts ; but since it is their desire, I accept the great honor conferred upon me. I regret, however, that their majesties should have directed their choice toward me ; for I am convinced that I shall not live long enough to fulfil the destiny to which this marriage calls me."* When at last the ceremonies of this day of agony were ended ; when the infanta, liad dismissed lier ladies of honor, and was once more alone — alone with God and with tlie past, she threw herself upon her couch, and, with her hands meekly folded across her breast, she lay, looking up, far beyond the palace dome to heaven. There she prayed until midniglit, and when the clock had told the hour, she arose to the new life that awaited her, witli its new promises, new expectations, new ties — but no new hopes. "Heavenly Father," exclaimed she, "it has begun, and I will bear it to the bitter end ! I am now the betrothed, and soon will be the wife of another. If I have sinned in my consent to marry one whom I can never love, pardon me, O Lord ! and hear me vow tliat 1 will faithfully fulfil my duty toward him. I am the affianced of another ! Farewell, my beloved, farewell, for three long YEARS !" CHAPTER XV. THE DREAM OF LOVE. The wedding-festival was over, and Vienna was resting from the fatigue of tlie brilliant entertainments by which the marriage of the archdvike had been followed, both in court and city. And indeed the rejoicings had been conducted with imperial magnificence. For eight days, tbe ]X'<)[)le of Vienna, without respect of rank, had been admitted to the palace, to Avitness the court festivities; while in the city and at Schonbrunn, nightly balls were given at the expense of the empress, where the happy Viennese danced and feasted to their hearts' content. * Tlie infanta's own words ; a.s veritably historical as is this 'whole relation of her death-propliecy aiul its unhappy fulfilment. See WraxaU, "Memoirs of the Courts," etc.. aud CaroUue Pichler. THE DREAM OF LOVE. 61 They had returned the bounty of their sovereign by erecting triumphal arches, strewing the ground with flowers, and rending the air with shouts, whenever tlie young archduchess had appeared in tlie streets. The gi-eat tnaestro Gkick had composed an opera for the occasion ; and when, on the night of its representation, the empress made her appearance in the imperial loge, followed by the archduke and his bride, the enthusiasm of the people was so great that Gluck waited a quarter of an hour, baton in hand, before he could begin his over- ture. But now the jubilee was over, the shouts were hushed, the people had returned to their accustomed routine of life, and the exchequer of the empress was minus — one million of florins. The court had withdrawn to the palace of Schonbrunn, there to enjoy in privacy the last golden days of autumn, as well as to afliord to the newly married pair a taste of that retirement so congenial to lovers. Maria Theresa, always munificent, had devoted one wing of the palace to the exclusive use of her young daughter-in-law ; and her apartments were fitted up with tlie last degree of splendor. Elegant mirrors, hulil and gilded furniture, costly turkey carpets and exquisite ])aintings, adorned tliis princely home ; and as the prin- cess was known to be skilled both as a painter and musician, one room was fitted up for her as a studio, and another as a music-hall. From the music-room, a glass door led to a balcony filled with rare and beautiful flowers. This balcony overlooked tlie park, and beyond was seen the city, made lovely by the soft gray veil of dis- tance, which lends such beauty to a landscape. On tills perfumed balcony sat the youthful pair. Isabella reclined in an arm-chair ; and at her feet on a low ottoman sat Joseph, look- ing up into her face, his eyes beaming with happiness. It was a lovely sight — that of these two young creatures, who, in the sweet, still evening, sat together, unveiling to one another the secrets of two blameless hearts, and forgetting rank, station, and the world, were tasting the pure joys of happily wedded love. The evening breeze whispered Nature's soft low greeting to them both ; and through the myrtle- branches that, hanging over the balcony, clustered around Isabella's head, the setting sun flung showers of gold that lit up her face with the glory of an angel. Bright as an angel seemed she to her husband, who, sitting at her feet, gazed enraptured upon her. How graceful he thought the contour of her oval face ; how rich the scarlet of her lovely mouth ; what noble thoughts were written on her pale and lofty brow, and how glossy were the masses of her raven black hair ! And those wondrous eyes ! Dark and light, lustrous and dim, at one moment they flashed with intellect, at another they glistened with unshed tears. Her form, too, was slender and graceful, for Nature had denied her nothing ; aiid the charm of her appearance (above all, to an eye weary of splendor) was made complete by the vapory muslin dress that fell around her perfect figure like a silver- white cloud. The only ornament that flecked its snow was a bunch of pink roses, which the archduke with his own hand had culled for his wife that morning. She wore them in her bosom, and they were the crown- ing beauty of that simple, elegant dress. Isabella's head rested amongst the myrtle-branches ; her eyes 62 JOSEPH II. A^'D HIS COURT. were fixed upon the heavens, with a look of iueiTable sadness, and gradually the smile had died from her lips. Her countenance con- trasted singularly with that of the archduke. Since his marriage, he had grown handsomer than ever ; and from his bright expressive face beamed the silent elocjuence of a young and joyful existence. In his joy he did not see the painful shadows that were darken- ing his wife's pale beauty. Fc^r a while, a deep stillness was about them. Flooded by the gold of the setting sun, lay the park at their feet ; farther off glimmered the domes of St. Stephen at Vienna, and faint over the evening air came the soothing tones of the vesper-bell. " How beautiful is the world I" said Joseph, at length : and, at the sound of his voice, suddenly breaking the stillness that had been so congenial to her reveries, Isabella started. A slight shiver ran through her frame, and her eyes imwillingly came back to earth. He did not see it. "Oh, how lovely is life, my Isabella, now that the music of thy heart replies to mine ! Never has earth seemed to me so full of beauty, as it does now that I call thee wife." Isabella laid her soft hand upon her husband's head, and looked at him for a while. At lengch she stifled a sigh, and said, "Are you tlien happy, my husband?" He dreV down the little hand that was resting on his blonde curls, and kissed it fervently. "A boon, my beloved. AVlien we are alone, let us banish Spanish fomality from our intercourse. Be tlie future empress before the world, but to me be my wife, and caU me ' thou. ' " "I will," replied she, blushing. "And I repeat my question, art thou happy, my husband ?" "I will' tell'thee, dearest. Tliere seems within me such a flood of melody seeking voice, that sometimes, for very ecstasy, I feel as if I must shout aloud all the pent-up joy that other men have frit- tered away from boyhood, and I have garnered up for this hour. Again I feel intoxicated with happiness, and fear that I am dream- ing. I tremble lest some rude hand awake me, and I look aromid for proof of my sober, waking bliss. I find it, and then breaks forth my soul in hosannas to God. And when, mingling among jien, I see a face that looks sad or pale, I feel such sympathy for him who is less happy than I, that I make vows, when I am em- peror, to heal all sorrow, and wipe away all tears. Then come great and noble aspirations, and I long to give back to my people the blessings with whicli they greeted thee, my own Isabella. This is not one feeling, but the nieeting of many. Is it happiness, dearest"?" " I cannot tell, " replied she ; " for happiness is u thing so heavenly in its nature, that one hardly dares to give it a name, lest it take flight, and soar l>ack to its home above the skies. Let us not press it too closelv, lest we seek it and it be gone. " " We sha'U do as it pleases thee, " said Joseph, snatching her two hands, and pressing them to his heart. " I know that when thou art bv. Happiness is here, and she cannot go back to heaven, unless she take thee too. " And again he looked at his wife, as if he would fain liave l)lended their dual being into one. '• I wish to make thee a confession, Isabel, " resumed he. "It is a great crime, dearest, but thou wilt give me absolution, I know. As I look back, I can .scarce believe it myself, but— hear. When tlie empress gave me tliy miniature, beautiful though it was^ I gave my consent to marrj", but my heart was imtouched. When Coimt THE DREAM OF LOVE. 63 Bathiany departed on his mission, I prayed that every obstacle might encimiber his advance : and oh, my beloved ! when I heard that thou wert coming, I almost wished thee buried under Alpine avalanches. When I was told of thy arrival, I longed to fly away from Vienna, from rank and royalty, to some far countiy, some se- cluded spot, where no reasons of state policy would force me to give my hand to an unknown bride. Was I not a barbarian, sweetest, was I not an arch-traitor?" " No, thou wert only a boy-prince, writhing under the heavy load of thy royalty. " " No, I was a criminal ; but oh, how I have expiated my sin ! When I saw thee my heart leaped into life ; and now it trembles lest tliou love not me! But thou wilt love me, wilt thou not? thou who hast made me so happy that I wish I had a hundred hearts ; for one is not enough to contain the love I feel for thee !" * Isabella was gazing at him with a melancholy smile. " Dreamer !" said she, in a low trembling tone, that sounded to Joseph like heav- enly music — "dreamer! the heart that through God's goodness is filled with love is of itself supernaturally magnified ; for love is a revelation from heaven. " "Sweet priestess of love! how truly thou art the intei-preter of our passion ! For it is ours, my Isabella, is it not? It is om?- love of which we speak, not mine alone. I have confessed to thee ; now do the same by me. Tell me, my wife, didst thou liate the man to whom thy passive hand was given, without one thouglit of thee or of thy heart's predilections? " How little he guessed the torture he inflicted ! He looked into her eyes with such trusting faith, wath such calm security of happi- ness, that her sweet face beamed with tender pity, while her cheeks deepened into scarlet blushes, as she listened to his passionate decla- rations of love. Poor Isabella ! "No," said she, "no, I never hated thee, Joseph. I had already heard enough to feel esteem for my future husband ; and, therefore, I did not hate, I pitied him." "Pity him, my own, and wherefore?" "Because without consulting hin heart, he was affianced to anim- known girl, unworthy to be tlie partner of his brilliant destiny. Poor Isabella of Parma was never made to be an empress, Joseph." "She was, she was ! She is fit to be empress of the world, for all poetry, all goodness, all intellect and beauty look out from the depths of her lustrous eyes. Oh, look upon me, star of my life, and prom- ise to guide me ever with thy holy light !" So saying, he took her in his arms, and pressed her to his tender, manly heart. "Promise me, beloved," whispered he, "promise never to leave me." "I promise," said the pale wife, "never to forsake thee, until God calls me hence to — " "Oh !" interrupted Joseph, "may that hour never strike till I be in heaven to receive thee ; for love is selfish, Isabella, and my daily prayer is now, that thy dear hand may close my eyes." "God will not hear that prayer, Joseph," replied Isabella; and as she spoke, her head sank upon his shoulder, and her long hair fell from its fastening, and, like a heavy mourning-veil, shrouded * These are his own words. Caroccioli " Life of Joseph II." 84 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. them both. Her husband held her close to his heart, and as he kissed her, she felt his tears drop upon her cheek. "I do not know," said he, "why it is, but I feel sometimes as if a tempest were gathering above my head. And yet, the heavens are cloudless, the sun has set ; and see, the moon rises, looking in her pale beauty, even as thou dost, my love. She has borrowed loveli- ness from thee to-night, for, surely, she was never so fair before. But all seems lovely when thou art near, and, I think, that, per- chance — thou lovest me. Tell me, Isabella, tell me, dearest, that thou dost love me. " She raised her head, and met his passionate gaze with a look so sad that his heart grew cold with apprehension. Then her eyes turned heavenward, and her lips moved. He knew that she was praying. But why, at such a moment? "Tell me the trvith !" cried he, vehemently — "tell me the truth !" " I cannot answer thee in words, " murmured Isabella, "but thou shalt have music — love's own interpreter. Come, let us go into the music-room. " And, light as a fairy, she tripped before, opening herself the door, though he strove to prevent her. "No, this is ?H?/ temple, and my hands unclose the doors," said she, once more self-possessed. Her husband followed her, enchanted. She looked around at the various instruments, and struck a few choixls on the j^iano. "No. This is too earthly. My own favorite instrument shall speak for me. " So saying, she opened a case that lay on the table, and took from it a violin. " This, " said she to her husband, " is the violin that came with me from Italy. " " How, Isabella, " exclaimed he, " dost thou play on my favorite instrument ?" "The violin, tome, is dear above all instruments," replied she; " it alone has tones that respond to those of the human heart. " * With indescribable grace she raised the violin to her shoulder, and began to play. At first her chords were light and airy as the sounds from an ^olian harp ; then the melody swelled until it broke into a gush of harmony that vibrated through every chord of the archduke's beating heart. As he stood breathless and entranced, she seemed to him like that picture, by Fiesole, of the angel that com- forts the dying. This picture had alwaj's been, above all others, the archduke's favorite, and nowitstood embodied beforehim, aliving, breatliing divinity. The music died ;i way to his ear, though still she played ; butnow it seemed to stream from her ej'es that shone like luminous stars, and flow from her softly moving lips, that wliispered to the spirits which now low, now loud, lauglied, sighed, or sobbed out their re- sponses from the inngie violin. Isabella was no longer a woman and his wife. She was a glori- iied spirit ; and now he trembled lest his angel should vanish, and leave him nothing but the memory of a heavenly vision. His eyes filled with tears ; a convulsive sigh broke from his breast, and, bury- ing his face in his hands, he sank down upon the sofa. * The infanta, who played ou several in.-itruments, excelled oo the violin. Wraxall, vol. ii., page 390. THE DREAM OF LOVE. 65 A light shudder ran through Isabella's frame ; her eyes, which had wandered far, far beyond the portals that shut us out from heaven, looked wildly around. Her husband's sigh had awakened lier from a blissful dream, and once more her weary heart sank des- olate to the earth. But with an expression of tenderest pity she turned toward him and smiled. Then her music changed ; it pealed out in rich harmony, fit for mortal ears. She saw her complete mas- tery over the archduke's soul ; his eyes grew bright and joyful once more, and from his countenance beamed the light of perfect con- tentment. " Our epithalaviium ' " exclaimed he, overjoyed, and no longer able to control his exultation, he darted from his seat, and clasped the dear musician in his arms. ■' I thank thee, my Isabella, " said he, with a voice that trembled with excess of happiness. "Yes, this is the voice of love ; thou hast answered me with our wedding-song. In this melody is drowned every bitter ]-emembrance of my life ; the discords of the past have melted into ricliest harmony — for thou returnest my love. A thou- sand times I thank thee ; this hour is sacred to me forever. "Thou liast said that thou lovest me," continued the happy lius- band, "and now I feel the power and strength of a god. lam ready for the battle of life. " " But I tliink tliat I saw the god weep. Poor mortal friend, gods shed no tears — tears are the baptism of liumanity. " " Oh, gods must weep for joy, Isabella, else they could not feel its perfection !" " May Heaven grant that thou weep no other tears !" said the wife, solemnly. " But hear, " continued she, raising her little hand, "the palace clock strikes eight, and we promised her majesty to spend this evening with the imperial family circle. AVe must be punctual, and I have scarcely time to dress. " "Why, wilt tliou change that sweet simple dress? Art thou not always the pride of the court? Come — thy muslin and roses will shame all the silk and jewels of my sisters. Come !" She laid her hand gently upon the arm that drew her forward, and courtesied before him with mock ceremony. " My lord and husband, " said she, laughing, "although your im- perial highness has banished Madame Etiquette from our balcony, remember that she stands grimly awaiting us by yonder door, and we must take her with us into the presence of our august empress. Madame Etiquette would never permit me to pass in this simple dress. She would order me indignantly from her sight, and your highness also. Go, therefore, and don your richest Spanish habit. In fifteen minutes I await your highness here. " She made another deep courtesy. The archduke, taking up the jest, approached hei-, and, kissing her band, replied : "I obey your imperial highness, as yotir loyal husband and lov- ing subject. I shall deck myself with stars and orders ; and in princely splendor I shall return, as becomes the spouse of the arch- duchess of Austria. Your highness's obedient servant. " And in true Spanish fashion, he bent his knee and kissed the hem of lier rol)e. Backing out of her presence he bowed again as he reached the door, but catching her laughing eyes, he suddenly dashed right over Madame Etiquptte. and catching his wife in his arms, be gave her a last and a right burgher- like kiss. The archduke was G6 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. very happy, and the archduchess — well ! One day God will reward her ! As the door closed, the expression of her face changed. The smile died from her lips, and her eyes were dim with tears. "Poor boy!" murmured she, "'he loves me, and I— I suffer him to believe that I return his love, while — But I am right, " said the devoted girl, and she clasped her hands convulsively together. " O my Saviour !" cried she, " in mercy give me grace while I live, to be true to the vows, that before thine altar, I have sworn to the Archduke of Austria ! It were cruel in me to wound his noble heart — cruel to awake him from his dream of love ! Let him at least be happy while I live ; and Lord give me strength that I faint not under my burden !" CHAPTER XVI. GLUCK. The sun had risen, flooding the earth with light, and the people of Vienna had already begun their labors for the day. But the cvir- tains had not yet been drawn from a richly-furnished room, whose walls were lined with books ; and in whose centre stood a table cov- ered with papers, whereon the lights, not j-et extinguished, were dropping their waxen tears from two lofty silver candelabra. At this table sat a man, looking earnestly at a paper covered with notes of music. He had sat there the whole night long, and his counte- nance gave no indication of the exhaustion that follows upon night- watching. His large, dark, gi"ay eyes flashed whenever he raised his head thoughtfully, as he frequently did ; and when music was born of his thoughts, a smile illuminated his otherwise plain face, and a wonderful light played about his magnificent forehead ; the glory of that genius which had made it her dwelling-place. The form of this man was as striking as his face. Tall and com- manding in stature, his wide shoulders seemed proudly to bear the weight of the head that towered above them, and in his lofty bear- ing tliere was a dignity that betokened either rank or genius. He liad both ; for this man was Cliristopher von Gluck, son of a huntsman of Prince Eugene, who was born in 1714, in the village of Weidenwang. This son of the poor huntsman was known throughout all Europe ; and in Italy, the nobles in their i)alucesand the people on the streets sang the melodies of Pliedra, Aniigonc, Scmirmnidc, and Televiwco. In Germany he was less known ; and in Vienna alone, Avas he truly appreciated. There he sat, unconscious of the daylight. On a chair at his side lay a violin and a flute ; near them, a violoncello leaned against the wall, and within reacli of his hand stood one of those upright pianos just then coming into fashion. At one moment he wrote rapidly, at another he hummed a mel- ody ; again, half declaiming, half singing, he read off a recitative; and then bent over and wrote with all his might. The light began to smoke, and the wax dropped over liis music, but he saw none of it ; neither saw he the daylight tliat liad replaced his candles. He was so absorbed in his work as not to hear a knock at his door. GLUCK. 67 But now the knock was repeated ; and this time so distinctly that it waked him from his dream of harmony, and he frowned. He rose, and striding to the door, withdrew the bolt. The door opened, and a tall, elegant woman, in a tasteful morn- ing-dress came in. Her fine, regular features were disturbed, and her eyes were red with weeping or watching. When she saw Gluck looking so fresh and vigorous, she smiled, and said, "Heaven be praised, you are alive and well! I have passed a night of anxious terror on your account. " "And why, Marianne?" asked he, his brow unbent, and his face beaming with tenderness ; for Gluck idolized his beautiful wife. She looked at his quiet, inquiring face, and broke into a merry laugh. "Oh, the barbarian," cried she, "not to know of what ae has been guilty of ! Why, Christopher, look at those burnt-out wax lights — look at the daylight wondering at you through your cur- tains. Last night, at ten o'clock, T lit these candles, and you prom- ised to work for only two hours more. Look at them now, and see what you have been doing. " "Indeed, I do believe that I have been here all niglit, "said Gluck, with naive astonishment. "But I assure you, Marianne, that I fully intended to go to bed at the end of two hours. Is it my fault if tlie night has seemed so short? Twelve hours since we parted? Can it be?" He went to tlie window and drew the curtains. " Daj' !" cried he, "and the sun so bright !" He looked out with a smile ; but suddenly his brow grew thoughtful, and he said in " low voice : "Oh, may the light of day shine upon me als(^ !" His wife laid her hand upon his arm. " And upon whom falls the light of day, if not upon you?" asked she, reproachfully. " Look back upon your twenty operas, and see each one bearing its laurel-wreath, and shouting to the world your fame! And now look into the future, and see their unborn sisters, whose lips one day will open to the harmony of your music, and will teach all na- tions to love your memory! And I, Christopher, I believe more in your future than in your past successes. If I did not, think you that I would indulge you as I do in your artistic eccentricities, and sit like a lovelorn maiden outside of this door, my ear strained to listen for your breathing — dreading lest some sudden stroke should have quenched the light of that genius which you overtask — yet daring not to ask entrance, lest my presence should affright your other loves, the Muses? Yes, my dear husband, I have faith in the power of your genius; and for you this glorious sun has risen to-day. Chase those clouds from the heaven of your brow. They are ill-timed." In the height of her enthusiasm she twined her arms around his neck, and rested her head upon Gluck's bosom. He bent down and kissed her forehead. " Then, my wife has faith, not in what I have done, but in what I can do? Is it so, love?" " It is, Christopher. I believe in the power of your genius." Gluck's face wore an expression of triumph as she said this, and he smiled. His smile was very beautiful, and ever, when she saw it, his wife felt a thrill of happiness. Never had it seemed to her so full of heavenly inspiration. " Since such is your faith in me, my Egeria, you will then have courage to hear what I have to tell. Tear a^vay the laurel-wreaths 08 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. from my past works, Marianne — burn them to ashes. They are dust and to dust they will surely return. Their mirth and their melody, their pomp and their jsathos, are all lies. They are not the true children of insiiiration — they are impostors. .They are the offspring of our affected and falsely sentimental times, and deserve not im- mortality. Away with them! A new day shall begin for me, or I shall hide my head in bitter solitude, despising my race, who ap- plaud the juggler, and turn away in coldness from the veritable artiste." '* What!" exclaimed Marianne, " those far-famed operas that de- light the world — are they nothing more than clever deceptions? " " Nothing more," cried Gluck. "They did not gush from the holy fount of inspiration; they were composed and arranged to suit the taste of the public and the dexterity of the singers, who, if they trill and juggle with their voices, think that they have reached the sum- mit of musical perfection. But this must no longer be. I have written for time, I shall now work for immortality. Let me inter- pret what the angels have whispered, and then you shall hear a lan- guage which nothing but music can translate. What are the lame efforts of speech by the side of its thrilling tones? Music is a divine revelation, but men have not yet received it in their hearts. / have been made its messenger, and I shall speak the message faithfully." '* Ah, Christopher," interposed Marianne, " I fear you will find no followers. If the message be too lofty for the hearers, the mes- senger will be driven away in disgrace." " Hear the coward!" cried Gluck vehemently; " see the woman's nature shrinking from the path of honor because it is beset with danger. I did well not to let you know the nature of my last labors, for with your sighs and croakings you would have turned me back again into the highway of falsehood. But you are too late, liol- troon. The work is done, and it shall see light." Gluck looked at his wife's face, and the expression he saw there made him pause. He was already sorry, and ready to atone. " No, no! I wrong you, my Egeria: not only are you the wife of my love, but the friend of my geniys. Come, dearest, let us brave the world together; and even if that fail us, let us never doubt the might of truth and the glory of its interpreters." So saying, (ijuck reached out his hands; and his wife, with a trusting smile, laid both hers upon them. " How can you doidjt me, Christopher? " asked she. " Look back into the past, to the days of our courtship, and say then who was faint-hearted, and who then declared that his little weight of grief was too heavy for those l)road shoulders to bear." " I! 1!" confessed Gluck; " but I was in love, and a man in love is always a craven." " And I suppose," laughed Marianne, " that I was not in love, which will accoimt for my energy and ]iatience on that occasion. To Ihink that my rich father tlioughl me too good for Gluck! — Heaven forgive me, but I could not mourn him as I might have done, had his death not left me free to marry you, you ill-natured giant. Yes! and now that twelve years have gone by, I love you twice as well as I did; and God, who knew there was no room in my heart for other loves, has given me no children, for T long for none. You are to nu^ husband, lover, friend, and — yoti need not shalr, your happiness seems like the old melody of my own happy bridal so many years ago. " " And yet, " said Isabella, " your majesty looks so young — " THE BIRTHDAY. 77 "No, child, I am a grandmother," replied the empress, smiling proudly, " but my heart is as young as ever, and it leaps with joy when I look upon the son whom you have made so happy. Why, his heart looks out of his great, blue eyes with such— But see for yourself, here he comes I" At this moment the archduke entered the room, and advanced toward his mother, while at the door, apparently awaiting his re- turn, stood the emperor and the lord high chancellor, Kamiitz. " Pardon me, your majesty, if I interrupt you, " said the arch- duke. " I have just learned from the marshal of the imperial house- hold that your majesty has declined going to the opera to-night. Can this be possible, when Gluck's new opera has been rehearsing for two months with especial reference to this occasion?" " It can, " replied the empress, " for I do not interdict the repre- sentation — I only absent myself from it. " The archduke crimsoned, and he was about to make some hasty reply, when he felt the pressure of his wife's hand upon his arm. He smiled, and controlled himself at once. "Forgive me, if I venture to remonstrate with your majesty," replied he, good-humoredly. " This new opera of Gluck is a musical gem, and is well worthy your majesty's notice." " I have been told, on the contrary, that it is very tiresome, " ex- claimed the empress with impatience. "The libretto is heavy, and the music also. It is highly probable that the opera will fail, and it would certainly be unfortunate if, on this day of rejoicing, we should assemble there to witness the failure." " But your majesty may have been misinformed, " persisted Joseph. " Let me beg of you, my dear mother, for the sake of the great maes- tro, who would take your absence sorely to heart, as well as for the sake of the director, Count Durazzo, who has taken such pains to produce this new masterpiece— let me beg you to reconsider your decision. " " And allow me to add my enti-eaties to those of Joseph, " said the emperor, entering the room. " All Vienna awaits the new represen- tation as a high artistic gratification. Without your majesty 's pres- ence the triumph of the maestro will be incomplete. " " And tiie emperor, too, opposes me ?" said Maria Theresa. " Does he, too, desert the old style, to follow these new-fangled musical eccentricities? Have we not all eu joyed the opera as it exists at present? And if so, why shall this Master Gluck step suddenly for- ward and announce to us that we know nothing of music, and that what we have hitherto admired as such was nothing more than trum- pery? Why does he disdain the poetry of Metastasio, to adopt that of a man whom nobody knows? I will not lend my hand to mortify the old man who for thirty years has been our court-poet. I owe it to him, at least, not to appear at this representation, and that is reason enough for me to refuse my presence there. " "But Calzabigi's poem is of surpassing beauty, " remonstrated the emperor ; " for Kaunitz himself has seen it, and is in raptures with it. " "Ah, Kaunitz, too, has given his adherence to the new musical caprice of Master Gluck?" said the empress, signing to the count to come forward. " Yes, your majesty, " said Kaunitz, bowing, " I also am for the new and startling, whether in politics or in music. I have learned 78 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. this lesson from my imperial mistress, whose new line of policy now commands the admiration of all Europe. " The empress received these flattering words with an emotion of visible pleasure ; for it was seldom that Kauuitz paid compliments, even to sovereigns. "You mean, then, that Gluck has not only produced something new, but something of worth, alsoV" " Yes, your majesty, music has cut off her queue, and reallj' in her new coiffure she is divinely beavitiful. Moreover, your majesty has rewarded the seventy years of Metastasio with a rich pension, proof enough to him of the estimation iu which his talents are held. Metastasio belongs to the old regime you have pensioned off ; Calza- bigi and Gluck are children of our new Austria. Your majesty's self has created this Austria, and you owe to her children your im- perial countenance and favor." " But I have been told there will be some strife to-night between the rival parties, " said the empress. "And since when has your majesty shunned the battle-field?" asked Kaunitz. " But the defeat, count, I fear the defeat. The opera is sure to fail. " " No one knows better than your majesty how to console the van- quished. Your majesty was never greater than when, after the defeat of Field-marshal Daun, you went forth to meet him with all the honors which you would have awarded to a victorious general.* If Gluck fails to-day, he will not be tlie less a great artiste, and your majesty will sustain him under his reverses." The emi^ress laughed. " It is dangerous to contend with Kaunitz, for he slays me with my own weapons. And you, too, my hu.sband, would have me abandon Hasse and Metastasio, who are so pious and so good, for this Gluck, whom I have never met inside of a chvu'ch ? Gluck is not even a Christian. " "But he is a genius," cried out Joseph, "and genius is pleasing in the sight of God. Metastasio and Hasse are old, and having noth- ing better to do, they go to church. If they were young, your majesty would not meet them so often, I fancy. " The face of the empress grew scarlet while the archduke poured fortli these thoughtless words ; and all present felt that Gluck and his cause were lost. But Isabella came to the rescue. Approaching the empress and kissing her hand, she said : " Your majesty has been so good as to say that to-day you would refuse me nothing. I have two requests to make. May I speak?" "Yes, dear child, you may, "replied the empi-ess, already appeased by the gentle voice of lier beloved daughter- in-law. " I know so well that you will ask nothing unseemly that I do not fear to grant your requests. Wliat ai"e they ?" " First, your majesty, I beg that my husband and I be permitted to attend the mass that is to be celebrated in your private cliapel, that by your side we may beg of God to give peace to Austria, and to bless us, your majesty's own family, with unity and love among ourselves. Will you permit this?" Tlie empress, in her animated way, drew the archduchess toward her, and kissed her tenderly. * After the battle of Torgau, which Daun lost. ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE. 79 " You are an angel, Isabella, " said she, " and discord ceases at the very sound of your voice. Yes, dearest child, you shall come with Joseph ; and side by side we will pray for peace and family concord. For the second boon, I guess it. Is it not that I grant your hus- band's petition?" Isabella, smiling, bowed her head, and the empress turned toward the emperor. "Well, your majesty," continued she, "since my presence is in- dispensable, I bow to your superior judgment in art, and the court must attend the opera to-night. Are you satisfied, my son V" asked she of the archduke. " Are you satisfied now that I have sacrificed my prejudices to give you pleasure? And on some future occasion will you do as much for me, should I require it?" "With shame I shall remember your majesty's goodness in par- doning my ungracious behavior to-day, " replied the archduke, fer- vently pressing his mother's hands to his lips. " I not only forgive but forget it, my son, " said Maria Theresa, with one of her enchanting smiles ; "this is a day of rejoicing, and no clouds shall darken our happiness. Let us now retire to the chapel, for, believe me, dear son, it is not well to forget our heavenly Father until age forces us to remember our dependence. A great and brill- iant destiny is before you, Jo.seph, and much you need help from Heaven. Watch and pray while you are young, that you may call down the blessing of God upon your career. " CHAPTER XX. ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE. On that night, all Vienna sped to the Imperial Opera-house. Not lords and ladies alone, but commoners and artisans with their wives, thronged to hear the wonderful music which for three weeks had divided the Viennese into two bitter factions. On one side stood Metastasio, the venerable court-poet, whose laurels dated from the reign of the empress's father. Linked with his fame was that of Hasse, who for forty years had been called " II caro Sassone. " Hasse, who had composed so many operas, was often heard to say, that, when it came upon him unawares, he did not know his own music. All Italy had declared for Hasse and Metastasio, and in scornful security the Italians had predicted the discomfiture of the new school of music. On the other hand were Gluck and his friend Calzabigi, whose partisans disdained the old style, and lauded the new one to the skies. Gluck was perfectly indifferent to all this strife of party. Not once, since the first day of rehearsal, had his countenance lost its expression of calm and lofty security. Resolved to conquer, he receded before no obstacle. In vain had the prima donna, the re- nowned Gabrielle, complained of hoarseness ; Gluck blandly excused her, and volunteered to send for her rival, Tibaldi, to take the role of Eurydice. This threat cured the hoarseness, and Gabrielle at- tended the rehearsals punctually. In vain had Guadagni attempted, by a few fioritures, to give an Italian turn to the severe simplicity 80 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. of Orpheus 's air. At the least deviation from his text, Gluck, with a frown, would recall the ambitious tenor, and do away with his embellishments. In vain had the chorus-singers complained of the impossibility of learning their i^arts. Gluck instructed them one by one. He had trained the orchestra, too, to fullest precision ; and finally, every difficulty overcome, the great opera of " Orpheus and Euiydice " was ready for representation on the birthday of the Arch- duchess Isabella. Shortly before the hour of performance, Gluck entered his draw- ing-room in a rich court-dress, his coat covered with decorations. His wife met him, elegantly attired, and sparkling with diamonds. She held ovit her hand, and smiled a happy smile. "Look at me, my hero, "said she. "I have arrayed myself in my wedding- jewels. I feel to-night as I did on the day when v/e plighted our faith to one a,nother before the altar. Then, dear Christopher, our hearts were united ; to-day — our souls. Is it not so? And are we not one in spirit?" "Yes, dearest, yes," replied Gluck, folding her in his arms, "never have I so prized and loved you as in these later days of strife and struggle. Well do I feel what a blessing to man is a noble woman ! Often during our rehearsals, when I have encountered the supercilious glances of performers and orchestra, the thought of your dear self has given me strength to confront and defy their scorn. And when, weary in mind and body, I have fovmd my way home, the touch of your hand lias refreshed and cooled the fever in my heart. And often when others have pronounced my music worth- less, I might have despaired, but for the remembrance of your emo- tion. I thought of your tears and of your rapture, and hope revived in my sick heart. Your applause, dear wife, has sustained me to the end. " "No, dear Christopher," replied Marianne, "not my applause, but the might of your own inspiration. That which is truly great must sooner or later prevail over mediocrity. " " The world is not so appreciative as you fancy, Marianne ! Else had Socrates not drunk of the poisoned beaker, nor Christ, our Lord, been crucified. Mediocrity is popular, because it has the sympathy of the masses. Not only does it come within their comprehension, but it is accommodating ; — it does not wound their littleness. I know, dear wife, that my opera is a veritable work of art, and there- fore do I tremble tliat its verdict is in the hands of mediocrity. Poor Marianne ! You liave arrayed yourself for a bridal, and it may liap- pen that we go to the funeral of my masterpiece. " "Well, even so," replied the spirited wife, "I shall not have decked myself in vain ; I shall die like tlie Indian widow, upon tlie funeral pile of my dear husband's greatness. I will both live and die with you, maeMro; wh(>ther you are apotheosized or stoned, your worth can neither be magnified nor lessened by the world. My faith in }-our genius is independent of public opinion ; and wlietlier you conquer or die, your opera nuist live." "How I wish," said Gluck thoughtfully, "that from above, I might look down a hundred years lienco and see whether indeed my works will liavo value on earth, or be thrown aside as antif(uated trumpery ! But it is useless — an impenetrable cloud covers the future, and we nuist e'en content ourselves witli the verdict of the day. Let me be strong to meet it ! — Com«;, Marianne, the carriage is com ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE. 81 ing to the door, and we must go. But is all this splendor to be hid- den behind the lattice- work of my little stage-box V" "Oh, no, Christopher," said his wife gayly ; "on such a night as this, I have taken another box ; from whence I can be a happy wit- ness of my husband's ti'iumph. " "What intrepid confidence the woman possesses!" exclaimed Gluck, catching his wife's gayety. " But how will my brave cham- pion feel, if she has to see as well as hear the hisses that may possi- bly greet us to-night?" "I shall feel heartily ashamed of the audience, "replied Marianne, " and shall take no pains to conceal my contempt. " "We shall see," answered Gluck, handing her to the carriage, and following her with a merry laugh. " Now, forward !" Within the theatre all was commotion. On one side, the parti- sans from the old school, who, from prejudice or custom, adhered to Hasse and Metastasio, predicted failure. This party was composed of Italians, and of all tliose who had " gone out " with old Austria. New Austria, on the other hand, with all the young dilettante of Vienna, were resolved to sustain Gluck, and, if possible, secure to his new opera an unprecedented triumph. The excitement reached even those boxes where sat the elite of the Viennese nobility. Even their voices were to be heard discussing the merits or demerits of the musical apple of discord. The Gluckites related that Guadagni, who, at first, had been strongly prejudiced against the opera, had finally been moved to tears by its exquisite harmony, and had said to Gluck that he was learning for the first time to what heights of beauty music might soar. The Hasseites replied that the opera was none the less tedious for Guadagni 's word. Moreover, if Hasse and Metastasio had not openly condemned Gluck's musical innovations, it was because they were both satisfied that the opera would damn itself, and they were present to witness the discomfiture of its com- poser. * Suddenly there was a hush in the theatre. The attention of the disputants was directed toward a small box, in the fii'st tier, the door of which had opened to give entrance to two persons. One was an old man with silver-white hair, which flowed in ringlets on either side of his pale and delicate face. His thin lips were parted with an afl'able smile, and the glance of his small dark eyes was mild, be- nevolent, and in keeping with the rest of his countenance. His small, bent figure was clothed in the cassock of an ahbe, but the simplicity of his costume was heightened by the order of Theresa which, at- tached to a silk ribbon, hung around his neck. The other was a tall, gaunt man, in the dress of court maestro de capello. His lean face was proud and seriovis, his large mouth wore an expression of scorn, and his full-orbed, light-blue eyes had a glance of power which accorded well with his lofty stature. The two ad- vanced arm in arm toward the railing, and, at their appearance, a storm of applause arose from the jjarterre, while the partisans of the Italian school cried : " Long live Hasse ! Long live Metastasio !" They bowed, and took their seats. While this was transpiring, the wife of Gluck entered her box. With a quiet smile she listened to the shouts that greeted her husband's rivals. "He, too," thought she, "will have his greeting and his tri- umph. " * Anton Schmid, "Ritter von Gluck," page 92. 82 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. She was not mistaken. No sooner had Gluck appeared in the orchestra, than, fi"oni boxes as well as parterre, a thousand voices pealed forth his welcome : " Long live Gluck ! long live the great maestro ! " Gluck bowed gracefully, while Marianne, happy but tranquil, unfolded her jewelled fan, and leaned back in supreme satisfaction. Metastasio whispered something to Hasse, who nodded his head, and then began to run his fingers through the masses of his bushy, gray hair. Suddenly were heard these words : " Her majesty the empress, and the imperial court !" Hushed now was every sound. Every eye was turned toward the box surmounted by the double-headed eagle of Austria. The mar- shal of the household appeared with his golden wand, the doors of the box flew asunder, the audience rose, and the empress, leaning on the arm of the emperor, entered her box. Magnificently dressed, and sparkling with diamonds, her transcendent beauty seemed still more to dazzle the eyes of her enraptured subjects. She was followed by the archduke, who, in conversation with his wife, seemed scarcely to heed the greetings of his future subjects. Behind them came a bevy of princes and princesses, all of whom, including little Marie Antoinette and Maximilian, the two youngest, had been per- mitted to accompany the imperial party. It was a family festival, and Maria Theresa chose on this occasion to appear before her people in the character of a mother. The empress and her husband came forward and bowed. The former then glided gracefully into her large gilt arm-chair, while the latter signed to his children to be seated. This was the signal of the music to begin. The audience resumed their seats, Gluck raised the leader's staff", and signed to the mu- sicians. The overture began. In breathless silence the audience listened to that short, earnest overture, wliose horns, trumi^ets, and hautboys seemed to herald the coming of kings and heroes. The curtain rose, and, in a funeral hall, Orpheus poured fortli his grief for the loss of his Eurydice. With this pathetic complaint mingled the voices of the cliorus of mourners; then a solo from Orpheus, in which he bewails anew tlie fate of the noble woman wholiad died for his sake. The god of love appears, counselling him to descend himself to the infernal regions. Orpheus, strengthened and revived by hope, resolves to tempt the dangerous descent, and calls upon his friends to share his fate. At the end of the first act the curtain fell amid the profoundest silence. The Hasseites shrugged their shoulders, and even Gluck 's warmest adherents felt undecided wliat to say of this severe Doric music, which disdained all the co(j[uetries of art, and rejected all superfluous embellishment. "lam glad tliat Metastasio is here," said the empress, "for his ])resence will ])rove to Calzabigi that he is not a pensioned dotard. And wliat thinks my daughter of the opera?" asked Maria Theresa of the infanta. But wlien she saw Isabella's face, her lieart grew faint with fear. The arcliduchess was ])ale as death, and her countenance wore an ex- pression of grief boi-dcring on despair. Her large, dark eyes, dis- tended to their utmost, were fixed upon the ceiling ; and she seemed ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE. 83 as if she still heard the wailings of Orpheus and the plaintive chorus of his friends. Joseph saw nothing of this. He had taken a seat farther back, and was chatting gayly with his little brothers and sisters. "God help me!" murmured the, empress; "she looks as if she w^ere dying ! Oh, if she were right with her dismal prophecy of death ! What if indeed she is to leave us? Have mercy, O God ! I know that I love her too well. She will be taken from me ; Heaven will claim from me this sacrifice !" * Isabella shuddered, and awakened from her horrid dream. Her eyes fell, her cheeks flushed, and once more her lips parted with a gentle smile. With a tender and appealing look, she turned toward the empress and kissed her hand. "Pardon me, your majesty," whispered she ; "the music has en- ti'anced and bewildered me. I was in another world, and was lost to the present. " " The music pleases you, then ?" asked the empress. "Oh, your majesty," cried Isabella, "this is no music to give pleasure ; it is the sublimest language of truth and love !" "Then," said the empress tenderly, "if you prize it so highly, dearest, I will prove to you how dearly I love you, for your verdict and mine disagree. Our next festive day will be that on which Joseph is to be crowned King of Rome. And we shall do homage to the taste of the Queen of Rome by ordering that this opera be re- peated on the occasion of her coronation. " Isabella shook her head. "I shall not live long enough to be crowned Queen of Rome. " f Maria Theresa was about to murmur a reply, when the curtain rose, and the second act of the opera opened. The audience, Avho had been loudly canvassing the music, were silenced, and awaited in breathless expectation the unfolding of the plot. Soon came the wonderful scene between Orpheus and the furies who guard the gates of Avernus. The beseeching tones of Orpheus, and the inexorable " No !" of the furies, made every lis- tener tremble. Even Hasse, overcome by the sublimity of the music, bowed his head with the rest ; and Metastasio, enraptured with the words, miu-nnired, "^47i, die poe.sia divina ! " Murmurs of applause were heard from every side of the theatre ; they grew with every scene, and at last burst forth in wild shouts. It seemed as if the audience were gradually rising to an appreciation of this new and unknown music, until with one accord its matchless beauty burst upon their hearts and overpowered them. When the curtain fell a second time, the applause knew no bounds. The Gluckites, in triumphant silence, hearkened to the voices of the deeply-moved multitude, %vho gave full vent to their emotions, and noisily exchanged the thoughts to which the wonderful opera had given birth. Marianne, supremely happy, listened enraptured, while wreaths fell in showers around the head of her beloved husband. The ad- herents of Hasse and Metastasio no longer dared to raise their voices in opposition to the public verdict. In this state of excitement the third act began. With increasing delight, the audience listened. When Eurydice, condemned to return to the infernal regions, sang *The empress's words. Caraccioli, " Life of .Joseph IL," page 87. t Isabella's ovra words. Wraxall, ii., page 394. 84 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. her plaintive aria, sobs were lieard throughout the theatre, and murmurs of applause were audible during the whole scene. But when Orpheus concluded his passionate aria "'Che faro senza Eury- diee, " the people could contain their enthusiasm no longer. Exalted, carried away, with beating hearts and tearful eyes, they cried "'Da capo!'" and when Guadagni, in compliance with the call, had re - })eated his solo, the audience shouted out so often the name of Gluck, that he could resist his joy no longer. He turned, and they saw his noble face scarlet with blushes ; then arose another storm. Again and again the " vwas " and the clappings were renewed, each time more frantic than before. Hasse, tired of the spectacle of his rival's triumph, had disap- peared. Metastasio, more magnanimous, had remained, and ap- plauded as loudly as any. Marianne, to conceal her tears, had hidden her face behind her open fan ; and as the applause of the people increased, until it resembled the shouts of victory, she murmured: "I knew it, I knew it! The true and beautiful must always prevail. " The fire of enthusiasm had spread to the imperial box. The emperor had more than once been heard to call out, " Bravo !" and Maria Theresa had several times felt her eyes grow dim. But she brushed away her tears and exclaimed : " It is beautiful, certainly ; but it is a heathen opera, in which not God but gods are invoked !" Isabella said nothing. She had held up before her face the bouquet which her husband had gathered for her, that her tears might fall unseen among its flowers. Joseph saw those tears shin- ing like dew-drops upon its rose-leaves, and, taking it from her hands, he kissed them away. " Do not weep, my Isabella, " whis- pered he tenderly ; " your tears fall like a weight of sorrow upon my heart. Wipe them away, beloved. The day will come when you also shall be an empress, and your people will do you homage as I do now ; and then you will have it in your power to heal their sor- rows, and wii^e away their tears ; and they will love and bless you as I—" A final burst of applause drowned the voice of the archduke. Tlie opera was at an end, and the people were calling again for Gluck, the creator of the lyric drama. CHAPTER XXI. "IN THREE YEARS, WE MEET AGAIN." The war was over. All Vienna was rejoicing that the struggle wliicli had caused so nuicli bloodshed was at an end, and that Austria and Prussia hail made peace. Neither of tlu^ two had gained any thing by this long war, except glorious victories, honorable wounds, and a knowledge of the power and l)ravery of its enemy. Both had serious burdens to bear, which, for many j'ears to come, would be painful remindei's of the past. Austria, to cover the expenses of the war, had invented pai:>er money, and had flooded the empire with millions of coupons. Prussia liad coined base money, and all the employes of the state had received notes, which were nicknamed '' Beaniteiischeine." "IN THREE YEARS, WE MEET AGAIN." 85 After the war these notes were exchanged for this base currency, which soon afterward was withdrawn from circulation as worth- less. But Prussia had obtained from Austria full recognition of her rights to Silesia, and she in return had pledged herself to vote for Joseph as candidate for the crown of Rome, and to supjwrt the pre- tensions of the empress to the reversion of the duchy of Modena. We have said that all Vienna was rejoicing, and turned out to receive the returning army with laurel wreaths and oaken boughs. The people breathed freely once more ; they shouted and feasted, and prepared themselves to enjoy to their utmost the blessings of peace. But while the nation shouted for joy, a cloud was gathering over the imperial palace, and its black shadow darkened the faces of the once happy family. There wanted now but a few months to complete the third year of the archduke's marriage, and the youug princesses seized every opportunity to make schemes of pleasure for the joyous anniversary. Isabella viewed these projects with a mournful smile. Her counte- nance became sadder and more serious, except when in the presence of her husband. There she assumed an appearance of gayetj' ; laughing, jesting, and drawing from her violin its sweetest sounds. But, with her attendants, or in the company of the other members of the imperial family, she was melancholy, and made her prepara- tions for death, which she foretold would overtake her very soon. "You believe this terrible presentiment, my daughter?" said the empress to her one day. " Will you indeed forsake us who love you so dearly ?" "It is not that I will, but that I must go," replied she. "It is God who calls me, and I must obey. " "But why do you think that God has called you?" Isabella ^vas silent for a moment, then she raised her eyes with a strange, unspeakable look to the face of the empress. " A dream has announced it to me," said she, "a dream in which I place implicit faith." "A dream?" said the pious empress to herself. "It is true that God sometimes speaks to men in dreams ; sometimes reveals to us in sleep secrets which He denies to our waking, earthly eyes. What was your dream, love?" "What I saw?" whispered she, almost inaudibly. "There are visions which no words can describe. They do not pass as pictui'es before the eye, but with unquenchable fire they brand themselves upon the heart. What I saw? I saw a beloved and dying face, a breathing corpse. I lay overwhelmed with grief near the outstretched form of my — my — mother. Oh, believe me, the prayer of despair has power over death itself, and the cry of a broken heart calls back the parting soul. I wept, I implored, I prayed, until the dim eyes opened, the icy lips moved, and the stiffening corpse arose and looked at me, at me who knelt in wild anguish by its side. " " Horrible !" cried the empress. "And this awful dream did not awake you ?" " No, I did not awake, and even now it seems to me that all these things were real. I saw the corpse erect, and I heard the words which its hollow and unearthly voice spoke to me : ' We shall meet again in three — '" " Say no more, say no more, " said the pale empress, crossing her- 86 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. self. " Yoix speak with such an air of conviction, that for a moment I too seemed to see this dreadful dream. When had you your dream ?" " In the autumn of 1760, your majesty. " The empress said nothing. She imprinted a kiss upon the fore- head of the infanta, and hastily withdrew to her own apartments. "I will pray, I will pray !" sobbed she. "Perhaps God will have mercy upon us. " She ordered her private carriage and drove to St. Stephens, where, prostrate among the tombs of her ancestors, she prayed for more than an hour. From this day Maria Theresa became sad and silent, anxiously watching the countenance of Isabella, to see if it betokened death. But weeks passed by, and the infanta's prophecy began to be re- garded as a delusion only fit to provoke a smile. The empress alone remained impressed by it. She still gazed with sorrowing love at the pale and melancholy face of her daughter-in-law. '■ You have made a convert of my mother, " said the Archduchess Christina one day to Isabella, "altliough," added she, laughing, "you never looked better in your life." "And you, Christina, you do not believe?" said Isabella, putting her arm around Christina's neck. "You, my friend, and the confi- dante of my sorrows, you would wish to prolong the burden of this life of secret wretchedness and dissimulation?" "I believe in the goodness of God, and in the excellence of your own heart, dear Isabella. These three years once passed away, as soon as you will have been convinced that this prophecy was indeed nothing but a dream, your heart will reopen to life and love. A new future will loom up before you, and at last you will reward the love of my poor brother, not by noble self-sacrifice, but by veritable afi"ection. " "Would that you spoke the truth!" returned Isabella sadly. " Had my heart been capable of loving, I would have loved him long ago — liim,. whose noble and confiding love is at once my pTide and my grief. Believe me when I tell you that in these few years of married life I have suffered terribly. I have striven with my sor- rows, I liave tried to overcome the past, I have desired to live and to enjoy life — but in vain. My heart was dead, and could not awake to life — I liavc only suffered and waited for release." "Gracious Heaven !" cried Christina, immoved by the confidence with which Isabella spoke, " is there nothing then that can bind you to life? If you are cold to the burning love of your husband, are you indifferent to yom- child?" " Uo you think "that I will leave my child?" said Isabella, looking surprised. "Oh, no! She will con\e to me before she is seven years old. " * " Oh, Isabella, Isabella, I cannot believe that you will be taken from us," cried Christina, bursting into tears, and encircling her sister with her arms, as though she fancied that they might shield her from the touch of death. "Stay vvitJi us, darling, we love you so dearly !" Her voice choked by emotion, she laid her head upon Isabella's ♦The infanta's own words. This interview of Isabella with Christina Is historic cal, and tlie most extraordinary part of it is, that the prophecy of her child's death was fulfilled. "IN THREE YEARS, WE MEET AGAIN." 87 shoulder, and wept piteously. Tlie infanta kissed her, and whis- pered words of tenderness, and Christina's sobs died away. Both were silent. Together they stood with sad hearts and blanched cheeks, two imperial princesses in the prime of youth, beauty, and worldly station, yet both bowed down by grief. Their lips sliglitly moved in prayer, but all around was silent. Suddenly the silence was broken by the deep, full sound of a large clock which stood on the mantel-piece. Isalaella raised her pale face, and listened with a shudder. For many months this clock had not struck the hour. The clock- maker, who had been sent to repair it, had pronounced the machinery to be so completely destroyed, that it would have to be renewed. Isabella could not summon resolution to part with the clock. It was a dear memento of home, and of her mother. She had there- fore preferred to keep it, although it would never sound again. And now it struck ! Loud, even, and full-toned, it jjealed the hour, and its clear, metallic voice rang sharply through the room. Isabella raised her head, and, pointing to the clock, said, with a shudder : " Christina, it is the signal — I am called !" * She drew back, as if in fear, while the clock went on with its relentless strokes. " Come, come, let us away !" murmured Chris- tina, with pale and trembling lips. " Yes, come, " sighed Isabella. She made a step, but her trembling feet refused to support her. She grew dizzy, and sank down upon her knees. Christina uttered a cry, and would have flown for help, but Isa- bella held her back. "My end approaches." said she. " My senses fail me. Hear my last words. When I am dead, you will find a letter for you. Sv.-ear that you will comply with its demands. " " I swear !" said Christina, solemnly. " I am content. Now call the physician. " Day after day of anguish went by — of such anguish as the hu- man heart can bear, but which human language is inadequate to paint. Isabella was borne to her chamber, and the imperial physician was called in. The empress followed him to the bedside, where pale and motionless sat Joseph, his eyes riveted upon the beloved wife who, for the first time, refused to smile upon him, for the first time was deaf to his words of love and sorrow. The physician bent over the princess, and took her hand. He felt her head, then her heart, while the empress, with folded hands, stood praying beside him ; and Joseph, whose eyes were now- turned ujion him, looked into his face, as if his whole soul lay in one long gaze of entreaty. Van Swieten spoke not a word, but continued his examination. He bade the weeping attendants uncover the feet of the princess, and bent over them in close and anxious scrutiny. As he raised his eyes, the archduke saw that Van Swieten was very pale. "Oh, doctor," cried he, in tones of agonj% "do not say that she will die ! You have saved so many lives ! Save my wife, my treasured wife, and take all that I possess in the world beside !" The physician replied not, but went again to the head of the bed, and looked intently at the face of the princess. It had now turned scarlet, and here and there was flecked with spots of purple. * Historical. Wraxall, p. 387. 7 88 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. Van Swieten snatched from Joseph one of the burning hands which he held clasped within his own. " Let me hold her dear hands, " said he, kissing them again and again. The doctor held up the little hand he had taken, which, first as white as fallen snow, was now empurpled with disease. He turned it over, looked into the palm, opened the fingers, and examined them closely. "Doctor, in mercy, speak!" said the agonized husband. "Do you not see that I shall die before your eyes, tmless you promise that she shall live !" The empress prayed no longer. When she saw how Van Swieten was examining the fingers of the archduchess, she uttered a stifled cry, and hiding her head with her hands, she wept silently. At the foot of the bed knelt the attendants, all with their tearful eyes lifted to the face of him who would promise life or pronounce death. Van Swieten gently laid down the hand of his patient, and opened her dress over the breast. As though he had seen enough, he closed it quickly and stood erect. His eyes were now fixed upon Joseph with an expression of deep and painful sympathy. " Speak, " said Joseph, with trembling lips, " I have courage to hear. " "It is my duty to speak," i-eplied Van Swieten, "my duty to exact of her majesty and of your highness to leave the room. The archduchess has the small-pox. " Maria Theresa sank insensible to the floor. From the anteroom where he was waiting the emperor heard the fall, and hastening at the sound, he bore his wife away. Joseph, meanwhile, sat as though he bad been struck by a thunder- bolt. " Arcliduke Joseph, " cried Van Swieten, " by the duty you owe to your country and your parents I implore you to leave this in- fected spot. " Joseph raised his head, and a smile illumined his pale face. "Oh," cried he, "I am a happy man ; I have had the small-pox ! I at least can remain with her until she recovers or dies." "Yes, but you will convey the infection to your relatives." " I will not leave the room, doctor, " said Joseph resolutely. " No inmate of the palace sliall receive the infection through me. I my- self will be my Isabella's nurse until — " He could speak no more ; he covered his face with his haiids, and his tears fell in showers over the pillow of his unconscious wife. Van Swieten opposed him no longer. He was suffered to I'emain, nursing the archducliess with a love that defied all fatigue. Of all tliis Isalx'lla was ignorant. Her large, staring eyes were fixed ui)on her tender guardian, but she knew him not ; she spoke to him in words of burning tenderness, such as never before had fallen from her lips ; but wliile she poured out her love, she called him by another name — she called him Riccardo ; and while she told him that h(^ was dearer to lier than all tlie world beside, she warned him tohewareof her father. Sometimes, in her delirium, slie saw a bloody corpse beside her, and she prayed to die by its side. Then she seemed to listen to another voice, and lier little liands were clasped in agony, while, exhausted with the horror of the vision, she murmured, "Three CHE FARO SENZA EURYDICE. 89 years ! three years ! O God, what martyrdom ! In three years we meet again !" Her husband heeded not her wild language, he listened to the music of her voice. That voice was all that was left to remind him of his once beautiful Isabella ; it was still as sweet as in the days when her beauty had almost maddened him— that beauty which had flown forever, and left its possessor a hideous mass of blood and cor- ruption. On the sixth day of her illness Isabella recovered from her de- lirium. She opened her eyes and fixed them upon her husband with a look of calm intelligence. "Farewell, Joseph!" said she softly. "Farewell ! It is over now, and I die." "No, no, darling, you will not die, " cried he, bursting into tears. "You would not leave me, beloved, you will live to bless me again." " Do not sorrow for me, " said she. " Forgive and forget me. " As Joseph, overcome by his emotion, made no reply, she repeated lier words with more emphasis : "Forgive me, Joseph, say that you forgive me, for otherwise I shall not die in peace." "Forgive thee!" cried he. "/forgive thee, who for three years Jiast made my life one long sunny day !" "Thou wert happy, then," asked she, "happy through me?" "I was, I am happy, if thou wilt not leave me." "Then," sighed the wife, "I die in peace. He was happy, I have done my duty, I have atoned — " Her head fell back. A long, fearful silence ensued. Suddenly a shriek— the sliriek of a man, was heard. When the attendants rushed in, Isabella was dead, and Joseph had fallen insensible upon the body.* CHAPTER XXII. CHE FARO SENZA. EURYDICE. The funeral rites were ended, and Isabella of Parma slept in St. Stephen's, in the tomb of the kaisers. Joseph had refused to attend the funeral. From the hour hir consciousness had returned to him he had locked himself within his apartments, and night and day he was heard pacing the floor with dull aud measured tread. Not even the empress, who had stood im- ploring at the door, could obtain a word in answer to her entreaties. For two days and nights he remained within. On the third day the emperor knocked at the door, and announced to his son that all was now ready for the funeral, and his presence was indispensable. Joseph opened the door, and. without a word, leaned upon his father's arm, and traversed the long suite of apartments hung in black, until they reached the room where lay the body of his wife. There, amid burning wax-lights, was the hideous coffin that enclosed * This extraordinary account of the life and death of the infanta. Isabella of Parma, is no romance: it rests upon facts which are mentioned bv historians of the reign of Maria Theresa. Caroline Pichler, whose mother was "tire- woman to the empress when tlie archduchess died, relates the history of tlie prophecy, wherein Isabella, first in three hours, then in as many days, weeks, months, and years, awaited her death. She also relates the fact of her death at the expiration of three years, "in the arms of her despairing husband." Caroline Pichler, "Memoirs of My Life." 90 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. his beloved one, and was about to bear away forever his life, his love, and his happiness. Wiien he saw the coffin, a stifled cry arose from his breast. He darted with oiien arms toward it, and, bend- ing down, hid his face upon the lid. At this moment the doors of the room were opened, and the em- press entered, attended by her daughters, all in deep mourning. Their faces were wan with weeping, as were those of all who fol- lowed the bereaved sovereign. Meanwhile Joseph neither saw nor heard what passed arovmd him. The ceremonies began, but while the priest performed the funeral rites, the archduke murmured words which brought tears to the eyes of his father and mother. IMaria Theresa approached her stricken son. She kissed his hair, and laid her liand lovingly upon his shoulder. "My son," said she, with quivering lip, "arise and be a man. Her soul is with God and with us ; let us give her body to the earth that bore it." While the empress spoke, the bells of the churches began to toll, and from the streets were heard the beating of muffled drums, and tlie booming of the cannon that announced to Vienna the moving of the funeral procession. "Come, my son, come," repeated the empress. "Our time of trial is at hand." Joseph raised his head from the coffin, and stared wildly around. He saw the priests, the acolytes with their smoking censers, the weeping attendants of his wife ; he saw the black hangings, the groups of mourners, and his father and mother standing pale and sad beside him ; he heard the tolling of the bells and the dull sound of the funeral drum ; and now, now indeed he felt the awful reality of his bereavement, and knew that as yet he had sufi'ered nothing. Tears filled his eyes, and he sank upon his fathers breast. Sobs and wailings filled the funeral hall, while without the in- exorable knell went on, the drums still beat, the cannon roared, all calling for the coftin, for whose entrance the imperial vault lay open. Once more Joseph approached this dreadful coffin. He kissed it, and taking from it one of the roses with which it had been decked, he said, "Farewell, my wife, my treasure; farewell, my adored Isabella !" Then turning toward the empress, he added, " Thank you, dearest mother, for tlie courage whicli bears you througli this bitter trial ; for me, I cannot follow you. Greet my ancestors and say to them that never came a nobler victim to the grave than the one which you bear thither to-day." "You will not go with us !" said the empress, astounded. "No, mother, no. Mingle dust with dust, but do not ask me to look into my Isabella's grave." He turued, and without a word or another look at the coffin, he left the room. " Let him go," whispered the emperor. "I believe that it would kill him to witness tli(> funeral ceremony." The empress gave a sign, and the corteije moved with the coffin to the catafalque, which, drawn by twelve black horses, awaited the body in front of the palace. Joseph once more retreated to his room, and there, through the stillness of the deserted palace, might b(^ heard his ceaseless tramp, that sounded as though it might bo tlie hammer that was fashioning another cofiin to break the hearts of the imperial family. At least CHE FARO SENZA EUEYDICE. 91 it seemed so to the soiTowing empress, who listened to the dull sound of her son's footsteps with superstitious fear. She had gone to him, on her return from the funeral, to console him with her love and sympathy. But the door was locked, and her affectionate entreaties for admission were unanswered. She turned to the emperor. "Something must be done to bend the obstinacy of this solitary grief, " said she anxiously. " I know Joseph. His is a passionate and obdurate nature, strong in love as iu hate. He had yielded his whole soul to his wife, and now, alas ! I fear that she will draw him with her to the grave. Wliat shall we do, Franz, to comfort him? How shall we entice him from this odious room, which lie paces like a lion in his cage?" " Go once more and command him to open the door. He will not have the courage to defy you, " said the emperor. Maria Theresa knocked again, and cried out, " My son Joseph, I command you, as your sovereign and mother, to open the door." No answer. Still the same dull, everlasting tread. The empress stood awhile to listen ; then, flushing with anger, she exclaimed, "It is in vain. We have lost all control over him. His sorrow has made him cruel and rebellious, even toward his mother. " "But tills is unmanly," cried the emperor with displeasure. "It is a miserable weakness to sink so helpless under grief. " "Think you so?" said the empress, ready to vent upon the em- peror her vexation at the conduct of her son. " In your pride of manhood you deem it weak that Josepli grieves for his wife. I dare say that were 5'our majesty placed in similar circumstances, you would know full well how to bear my loss like a man. But your majesty must remember that Joseph has not your wisdom and ex- jjerience. He is but a poor, artless youth, who has been weak enough to love his wife without stint. This is a fault for which I crave the emperor's indulgence." "Oh, your majesty, " replied the emperor, smiling, "God forbid that he should ever grow less affectionate ! I was only vexed that the voice of Maria Theresa should have less power over my son than it has over his father ; that silvery voice which bewitched me in youth, and througli life has soothed my every pang. " The empress, completely softened, reached out her hand. "Would you, indeed, movu-n for me, Franz?" said she tenderly. " Would you refuse to listen to father or mother for my sake ? Yes, dearest, you would, I believe. From our childhood we were lovers, we will be lovers in our old age, and when we part the one that ia left will mourn as deeply as Joseph. Let us, then, be lenient with his grief, until our love and forbearance shall have won him to come and weep upon his mother's breast." " If your majesty permit, " said Christina, stepping forward, " I will try to soften his grief." " What can you do, dear child?" asked the empress of her favorite daughter. "I have a message for him," replied Christina. "I swore to Isabella that no one but myself should reveal it to Joseph. I know that it will prove consolatory, and Isabella also knew it. For this reason she intrusted it to me." "Try, then, my daughter, try if your voice will have more power than mine. Meanwhile I will essay the power of music. It over- 92 ^ JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. came him once when he was a boy. We will try him with the music that Isabella loved best. " She called a page and spoke with him in a low voice. In con- clusion she said, "Let the carriage go at once and bring him hither in a quarter of an hour. " The page withdrew, and the imperial family were again alone. " Now, my daughter, " said the empress, " see if he will speak to you. " Christina approached the door. " My brother Joseph, " said she, " I beseech you open the door to me. I come from Isabella ; it is she who sends me to you. " The bolt was withdrawn, and for a moment the pale face of Joseph appeared at the door. " Come in, " said he, waving his hand to Christina. She followed him into the room where so many, many tears had been shed. "Now speak, " said he, " what did Isabella say to you?" His sister looked with pity upon his ghastly face and those hol- low eyes grown glassy with weeping. " Poor, poor Joseph !" said she softly, "' I see that your love for her was beyond all bounds. " He made a motion of impatience. "Do not pity me, " said he. " My grief is too sacred for sympathy. I do not need it. Tell me at once, what said Isabella?" Christina hesitated. She felt as if the balm she was about to bring would prove more painful than the wounds it was intended to heal. "Speak, I tell you," cried Joseph angrily. "If you have made use of Isabella's name to gain access to my presence, it is a trick for which I will never forgive you. Why did you disturb me? I was with her, " continued he, staring at the divan where so often they had sat together. " She wore her white dress and the pink roses, and she smiled with her enchanting smile. I lay at her feet, I looked into her eyes, I heard the melody of her voice. " "Did she ever say that she loved you?" asked Christina. He looked at her intently and grew thoughtful. " I do not know, " said he after a pause, " whether she ever told me so in words. But there needed no words. I saw her love in every glance, in every smile. Her whole life was love, and oh ! I have lost it forever !" "You have not lost it, for you never possessed it, " said Christina. Joseph drew back and frowned. " What is that?" said he hastily. Christina approached him, and laying her hand upon his shoul- der, she looked into his face until her eyes filled with tears. "I say," whispered she in a tremulous voice, "do not mourn any longer, dear brother. For she for whom you grieve, she whom you call your Isabella, never loved you. " "That is not true," cried Joseph vehemently. "It is a lie, a wicked lie that you have devised to lessen my grief. " "It is nothing but the ti'uth, and I promised Isabella to tell it to you." Joseph sank almo.st insensible upon the divan. Christina seated herself near him, and throwing her arms around him, sobbed, " My brother, my darling brother, think no more of the dead, but turn your heart toward us ; for we love j'ou, and Isabella never did. She merely endured your love. " "Endured my love!" murmured Joseph, and his head sank powerless upon Christina's bosom. But suddenly he rose, and look- CHE FARO SENZA EURYDICE. 93 ing with a beseeching expression at his sister's beautiful face, he said : "Bethink you, Christina, of what you do. Think that I love Isabella with all the strength and glow of my heart ; think that for me she was the embodiment of all beauty, goodness, and purity. Do not seek to comfort me by destroying my faith in the truth of the only woman I have ever loved. In whom shall I have faith, if not in her? If her love was a lie, is there love in this world? Oh, Christina, in mercy say that you have sought to comfort by deceiv- ing me !" " I have sought to comfort you, by telling you the truth. If you will not believe me, believe her own words. " She drew a paper from her dress and handed it to Joseph. "It is a letter, " said she, " which Isabella gave me, and she naade me swear that I would fulfil its behests. Read, and be satisfied. " Joseph unfolded the letter. " It is her handwriting, " said he to himself, and he tried to read it but in vain ; his hand trembled, and his eyes filled with tears. He gave it back to Christina, who read it aloud : " My Christina — confidant of my sufferings and sorrow — hear my dying request. To jou I leave the task of consoling my husband. His noble tears shall not be shed over the grave of one who is un- worthy of them. Tell him the truth, tell him all you know, show him this letter, and bid him not grieve for one who never loved him. Do this for me, it is my last request. Isabella. " Suddenly, from the adjoining room, the sweet tones of music were heard ; the air was tremulous with melody, which at first soft and low, swelled louder and louder until it filled the room with a gush of harmony that stirred the hearts of those who listened with sweetest and holiest emotions. Joseph bent eagerlj- forward. He knew those strains so well! He remembered the night when Isabella's tears had fallen among the rose-leaves, and he had kissed them away. He saw her once more in the pride of her beauty, looking at him from the depths of those glorious dark eyes which he had so madly loved. The music gave life and being to these memories, and its glamour brought back the dead from her grave ! He remembered how he had asked her if she loved him, and how, avoiding the words so difficult to speak, she had answered with the witching tones of her violin. Oh, that heavenly evening hour upon the balcony ! She had said, "Love has its own language : come and listen." And Christina said she had not lotted ! He could not, would not believe her ! He took the letter from Christina's hand and kissed the paper. "I do not believe yovi, " he said softly. "My trust in her is like my soi'row — for eternity !" This imperturbable faith had the effect of hardening Christina, and making her cruel. "You shall believe me," said she hastily. "You shall see in her own handwriting that she loved another." " Another ! " cried the wretched husband. " I will kill him !" "He died before you ever knew her," said Christina, frightened at the effect of her own heartlessness. A smile overspread his face. "Dead, before I knew her ! Tlien she forgot him when I loved her. " He took up the letter and read 94 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. it again. "Oh," said he, "see how magnanimous was my Isabella. She has been false to her own heart that she might save me from sorrow. She thought it would dry my tears to think that she did not love me. Oh, beloved, I see througli thy noble falsehood — in death as in life I know every working of that unselfish heart !" Christina said nothing, but she grew more inflexible in her pur- pose. " He shall be convinced, " said she to herself. " I will give him her letters to me, and then he will know that he never has been loved." Again pealed forth the sounds of that heavenly music. Now the violin, mingling with the tones of the harpsichord, glide into a melody of divinest beauty ; and the full, rich tones of a woman's voice warbled the complaint of Orpheus : " Che faro senza Eurydice ! " Joseph sighed convulsively, and a faint color tinged his pale cheeks. This was Isabella's favorite air ; and once more the vision started up before him, once more he saw the tears, he kissed them, and looked into the depths of those starry eyes ! He rose from the divan, and, drawn thither by a power which he could not contend, he left the room, and followed the music that was calling him from madness back to reason. At the harpsichord sat Ritter Gluck, and by him stood the Arch- duchess Elizabeth, whose rich and beautiful voice had exorcised the evil spirit. The emperor and empress, with ail their childi-en, came forward to meet the unhappy one, and all with tearful eyes kissed and wel- comed him with tender words of love. Gluck alone seemed not to have seen the archduke. He was chiding Elizabeth for singing falsely, and called upon her to repeat her song. Nevertheless, while he corrected his pupil, the big tears were coursing one another down his cheeks, and fell upon his hands, as they wandered over the instrument, enrajituring every ear. Elizabeth began again ; and again were heard the heart-breaking tones of " Che faro senza Eurydice ! " All eyes turned upon the bereaved Orpheus. The empress opened her arms, and completely subdued, he darted to his mother's heart, and cried out, " Che faro senza Eurydice ! " Again ajid again the mother kissed her weeping son. The em- peror folded them both to his loving heart. The brothers and sisters wept for mingled grief and joy. Elizabeth's voice failed her, and she sang no more. But Gluck played on, his hands weaving new strains of harmony such as earth had never heard before. His head thrown back, liis eyes upturned toward heaven, his face beaming with inspiration, he listened to his music, while from Joseph's anguish was born the wondei-ful song in Alceste, '''' No crudel, no posso vivere, tu lo sai, senza de te. " The melody went on, the parents caressed their child, and on his mother's bosom Joseph wept the last tears of his great youthful sorrow. The dream of love was over ! Grief had made of him a man. KING OF EOME. CHAPTER XXIII, FATHER PORHAMMER AND COUNT KAUNITZ. The empress paced her cabinet with hasty steps. Near the large table, covered with papers of state, stood Father Porhanimer. "Are you sure of what you say?" said Maria Theresa with impa- tience. "Are you sure that the lord chancellor so far forgets his honor and dignity as to spend his hours of leisure in the company of disreputable actresses? Is it true that his house is the scene of shameful orgies and saturnalian feasts?" " It is even so, your majesty, " replied Porhanimer. " It is un- happily true that he whom your majesty has raised to the first place in the empire of — " "The first place!" echoed the empress angrily. "Know, sir, that the first place in the empire is mine. From God I hold my power and my crown, and I depute them to no man — I alone reign in Austria. " " Your majesty, " resumed the father, " did not allow me to finish. I was about to say that he whom your majesty has made your most illustrious subject, he who ought to give to all your subjects an ex- ample of moral conduct, is a profligate and libertine. That infamous school of Paris, where reigns the wanton Marquise de Pompadour, the debauched court of Versailles — " "Hold, father, and remember that France is Austria's dearest ally, " interrupted the empress. The father bowed. " The school of Parisian gallantly, of which the lord chancellor is a graduate, has borne its fruits. Count Kauuitz mocks at religion, chastity, and every other virtue. In- stead of giving an honorable mistress to liis house, it is the home of Foliazzi, the singer, who holds him fast with her rosy chains." "We must send her away from Vienna." "Ah, your majesty, if you send her. Count Kaunitz will go with her. He cannot live without La Foliazzi. Even when he comes hither to your majesty's august presence, La Foliazzi is in his coach, and she awaits his return at the doors of the imperial palace. " "Impossible ! I will not believe such scandalous reports. Count Kauuitz never would dare bring his mistresses to my palace doors ; he never would have the audacity to treat his official visits to myself as episodes in a life of lasciviousness with an unchaste singer. You shall withdraw your words. Father Porhammer, or you shall prove them. " " I will prove them, your majesty. " Just then the door opened, and a page announced the lord chan- cellor. Count Kaunitz. 96 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. "Admit Count Kaunitz," said the empress, "and you, Father Porhamnier, remain. " The father withdrew within the embrasure of a window, while the lord chancellor followed the page into the presence of the empress. The count's face was as fair and his cheeks as rosy as ever ; he wore the same fantastic peruke of his own invention, and his figure was as straight and slender as it had ever been. Ten years had gone by since he became prime minister, but nothing had altered Jiim. So marble-like his face, that age could not wrinkle, nor care trace a line upon its stony surface. He did not wait for the imperial greeting, but came forward in his careless, unceremonious way, not as though he stood before his sovereign, but as if he had come to visit a lady of his own rank. " Your majesty sees, " said he, with a courteous inclination of the head, "that I use the permission which has been granted me, of seeking an audience whenever the state demands it. As I come, not to intrude upon your majesty with idle conversation, but to speak of grave and important matters of state, I do not apologize for coming unbidden." The easy and unembarrassed manner in which Kaunitz announced himself had its effect uj^on the empress. She who was so accus- tomed to give vent to the feelings of the moment, overcame her dis- pleasure and received her minister with her usual affability. "Your majesty, then, will grant an audience to your minister of state?" said Kaunitz, looking shar^^ly at the priest who stood un- concerned at the window. " Since the lord chancellor comes at such an unusual hour, " re- plied the empress, " I must conclude that his business is of an im- perative nature. I am therefore ready to hear him. " Kaunitz bowed, and then turning with an arrogant gesture toward the empress's confessor, he said, "Do you hear, Father Porham- mer? the empress will hold a council with me. " " I hear it, my lord, " said the priest. " Then as we are not on the subject of religion, you will have the goodness to leave the rooiB. " " I was ordered by her majesty to remain, " replied Father Por- hamnier quietly. Kaunitz tvirned toward the empress, who, with knit and angry brow, was listening to her minister. "If it be the empress's pleasure," said he, bowing, "I will take the liberty of retiring until her majesty is at leisure for earthly affairs. Religion and politics are not to be confounded together ; the former being the weightier subject of the two, I give way. " He bowed agaiu, and was about to leave the room, when the empress recalled him. "Stay!" said she. "Father Porhammer will leave us for a while. " Without a word, the father bowed and withdrew. "Now speak. Count Kaimitz, " said the empress, hastily, "and let the affair be important that has led you to drive my confessor, in such an uncourteous fashion, from my presence. " "Weighty, most weighty is the news that concerns the imperial house of Austria, " said Kaunitz, with his unruffled equanimity. "A courier has brought me tidings of the archduke's election as King of Rome. " FATHER PORHAMMER AND COUNT KAUNITZ. 97 " Is that all ?" said Maria Theresa. " That is no news. The voice of Prussia decided that matter long ago ; and this is the only advan- tage we have ever reaped from our long and terrible war with Frederick?" " No, your majesty, no, this is not the only thing we have ob- tained. This war has yielded us material advantages. It has in- creased the military strength of the country; it has placed before the eyes of all Europe the inexhaustible nature of Austria's re- sources ; it has brought all the little Germanic principalities under Austria's dominion. It has united Hungary, Sclavonia, Italy, Bohemia, and Lombai'dy under Austria's flag and Austria's field- marshals. Indeed, your majesty, this war has given us something of far more value than Prussia's vote. The bloody baptism of the battle-field has made Austrians of all those who bled for Austi'ia's rights. " "That does not prevent that abominable man from clinging to my fair domain of Silesia. How will my ancestor, the great Charles, greet me, when I go to my grave, bearing the tidings that imder my reign Austria has been shorn of a principality?" " No such tidings shall your majesty bear to your forefathers, " replied Kaunitz, fervently. " Leave Frederick alone with his bit of a principality ; more trouble than profit may it be to him ! Long before he will have transformed his Silesian Austrians into loyal Prussians, we shall have repaired the damage he has done us by new and richer acquisitions. " "No, no, no!" cried the empress, "let us have no more war. What we do not possess by just right, I never will consent to win with the sword. " "But inheritance and alliance bestow rights," persisted the min- ister. " Your majesty has marriageable daughters and sons, and it is time to think of negotiating honorable alliances for them. " The eyes of the empress sparkled, and her face beamed with happy smiles. The establishment of her children was her constant thought by night and day, and in broaching this subject, Kaunitz was meeting her dearest wishes. Her displeasure against him melted away like snow before the sun, and she gave herself up entirely to the pleasing discussion. " It will be difficult to find husbands for my daughters, " said she. " All the reigning heads of European families are married, and their sons are too young for Elizabeth and Amelia. I cannot marry my gi-own-up daughters to boys ; nor can I bring a set of insignificant sons-in-law to hang about the court. My husband the emperor would never consent to bestow his daughters upon petty princes, who, instead of bringing influence with them, would derive their reflected consequence from an alliance with us. If we cannot find them husbands worthy of their station, my daughters must remain single, or devote their lives to God. " "If your majesty's eldest daughters choose that holy vocation, politics need not interfere with their inclinations. The boyish heirs of European kingdoms can await the advent of the younger princesses. " " Let them wait, " said the empress ; " we will train noble queens for them. " "But 'the Archduke Leopold need not wait," said Kaunitz ; "we will begin with him. The Spanish ambassador has received from 98 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. his sovereign, Carlos IV. , a letter directing him to offer his daugh- ter Maria Louisa to your majesty's second son. Knowing that his highness the Archduke Joseph is your majesty's successor, he sup- poses that the Emperor Francis will bestow upon his second son the grand duchy of Tuscany. " " A very good alliance, " returned Maria Theresa, nodding her head. "The women of tlie house of Bourbon are all estimable. Our lost Isabella was a lovely woman. Well, the grand-daughter of the King of Spain having died, let us renew our connection with him through his daughter ; and may God grant to Leopold happier nup- tials than were those of my poor Joseph. " " The Archduke Joseph, too, must marry, " said Kaunitz. "Poor Joseph !" sighed the empress; "even now his heart is full of sorrow ; and while he mourns his dead, we make plans to marry him to another ! But you are right, count; he must marry. We cannot listen to his heart, he must sacrifice himself to duty. Aus- tria must have another heir. But let us give him a little respite. " "He will forget his sorrow when he is crowned King of Rome," said Kaunitz. "Ambition is certain to cure love ; and the posses- sion of a crown may well console any man for the loss of a woman. " Maria Theresa was displeased. "Do you deem it, then, so light a thing?" said she, with a frown, "to lose a beloved wife? Do you think it great happiness to wear a crown? You know notliing either of the pains of power or the joj's of marriage ; but I can tell you that many a time I would have fainted under the burden of my crown, had my Franz not sustained me with his loving and beloved hand. But what know yovi of love? Your heart is a market-place wherein you seek slaves for your harem, but no honorable woman would make it her home. I have heard scandalous reports concern- ing your house. Count Kaunitz ; I have — " A light knock was lieard at the door, and as the empress gave the word, Father Porhammer entered the room. CHAPTER XXIV. MATRBIONIAL PLANS. Father Porhammer came forward, while the empress looked at him with a glance of astonishment. "Forgive me, your majesty, for this intrusion. It is in accord- ance with your gracious commands, whose fulfilment I have no right to delay. I was ordered by your majesty to prove the fact which I asserted." ' "Well, have j-ou the proof ?" said the empi-ess, impatiently. " I have, your majesty. It is in the carriage of the lord chancel- lor, at the great door of the palace. " The empress made an exclamation ; and her face grew scarlet with anger. Her stormy looks rested upon Kaunitz, who, perfectly unconcerned, seemed not to have heard what Porhammer liad said. Tliis undisturbed serenity on the part of hm. " " TJie first one is to sti-engthen our interest with Germany either by offers of advantages and lionors, payment of subsidies, or by matrimonial alliances. For this reason it is that the future King of Rome must choose his wife among the princesses of Germany. Through your majesty's other children we will ally ourselves to the rest of Enro]ie. Tlie Bourbons reign in the south, and they must all be allied to the hotise of HMi)suhrg. TIn-ough the marriage of Archduke Tjcopold with the daiigiitei- of the King of S])ain, we shall gain a powerful ally ; and the archduke himself, as Grand Duke of Tuscany, will represent Austria's interest in Italy. If the Crown MATRIMONIAL PLANS. 101 Prfnce of Parma and the young King of Naples unite themselves to two of your majesty's daughters, then all Italy will be leagued with Austria. When this is accomplished, the word 'Italy' will be a geographical designation, but the country will be an Austrian de- pendency. Now for Western Europe. For Fi-ance, we must con- firm our alliance with her also. The son of the dauphin, the grand- son of Louis XV. , is now eleven years old ; just three years older than the Archduchess Marie Antoinette. " " Truly, Kaunitz, your plans are great, " cried the empress, her face full of smiles and radiant with joy. "The emperor often calls me a match-maker, but I am an insignificant schemer by your side. I must say that I approve your plans, and will do all that I can to insure them success. " " The most of them are for the future ; before all things we must bestir ourselves about the present. You have seen how later, we can secure the friendship of the south ; that of the north must come through the marriage of the King of Rome. His selection of a Ger- man princess will incline all Germany toward your majesty's imperial house. Nearest to Prussia are the two important princi- palities of Bavaria and Saxony. " " And both have unmarried princesses, " exclaimed the empress, joyfully. " I wish we might select the daughter of the Elector of Saxony, for that house has suffered so much for Austi'ia, that I would gladly do it this favor. But I have heard that the Princess Mary Kunigunde has verj' few charms. " " Perhaps Josepha of Bavaria may be handsomer, " said Kaunitz dryly. " She is nevertheless the daughter of Charles VII. , and he has never been my friend. I have suffered much from this man, and would 5"ou have me accept his daughter as mine?" '"There can be no resentment for bygones in politics," said Kavinitz, deliberately. " But there may be gratitude for past services, " exclaimed the empress, warmly. "I shall never forget how Hungar}' sustainec me when this man would have robbed me of my crown. I never would have worn my imperial diadem but for the help of God, and the sword of St. Stephen, which my brave Magyars drew for me on tlie battle-field ! Without Hungary I would have been dethroned, and shall I now place the crown of St. Stephen's ujjon the brow of an enemy's daughter ! It would be an injustice to my loyal Hunga- rians. I shall give my voice to Mary of Saxony, but if Joseph prefers Josepha, I will not oppose his choice. And this matter set- tled, tell me your other plans for strengthening the power of Austria. " "My second plan is to humanize the Hungarian nobles. Tliese nobles reign in Hungary like so many petty sovereigns. There is no such thing as nationality among them. The country is divided into nobles and vassals. The nobles are so powerful that the govern- ment is completely lost sight of, and the real sovereigns of Hungary are the Magyars. " "That is in some sense tiaie, " answered the empress. "I have often felt how dangerous to my rights was the arrogance of my Hungarian subjects. They lift their haughty heads too near the regions of royalty. " ''And your majesty's great ancestor, Charles V., once said that 102 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. nothing had a right to lift its head in the vicinity of a king. The very trees would he lop, that their branches might not grow too near to heaven ; how much more the heads of men, when they were raised too higli." "But such a i^olicy shall never be mine — I will never buy obedi- ence with oppression. Besides, I have already said that I am under obligations to my liuQgarian nobles, and I will not injure a hair of their heads." •' Tliere are other ways of conquering besides the sword, " said the crafty Kaunitz. " Coercion would but fortify the Magyars in their insolence. These haughty lords must be enticed from their fastnesses to Vienna. They must be greeted witli honors, titles, and estates. They must be taught to love splendor, to spend money, to accumulate debts, until tliey become bankrupt, and their posses- sions in Hungary fall into the hands of the crown. " "What an infamous i^olicy !" cried the empress. "Good, nevertheless," said Kaunitz calmly. "Nothing can be done with the Magyars by force. They must be vanquished by pleasure, and also by marriage. They must be made to take home Viennese wives, wlio will initiate them into the arts of refined life, who will heliD them to waste their money, and so cut off the wings of their freedom. He who lias learned to love pleasure will have no taste for sedition, and he who is in debt is no longer free. Your majesty must bestow gifts and places at court ; the Magyars will grow ambitious — they will become hangers-on of princes, and — dis- sipation, ostentation, and extravagance will do the rest." "While Kaunitz was unfolding his satanic schemes, the empress walked up and down, in visible agitation. When he ceased, she came and stood before liim, and with her searching eyes tried to look tlirough the mask of his impenetrable countenance. " What you have said there, " said she, " is a mournful leaf from the book of worldly wisdom which guides your actions, and it is enough to make an honest lieart ache to think that good is to be readied by such foul means. My heart struggles against such a course, but my head approves it, and I dare not listen to my womanly scruples, for I am a sovereign. May the wiles of the women of Vienna make loyal subjects of my brave Hungarians ! I will bestow honors without end ; but for aught else, let it come as it may. Ex- travagance, debt, and sequestration, they must bring about them- selves. " "They will follow; and then sequestered estates must go to Austrian n()l)]es, tliat our own people may mingle with the Magj'ars at liome, and strengthen the influence of your majesty's house in Hungary. " "Say no more," said the empress, mournfull}-. "Bring them hitlier, if you can. But my heart aches, and my ears burn to have heard what you have said. Say no more of Hungary to me — let us s])eak of our briglit plans for my children. It makes me happy to think that so manv of tliem will wear crowns." "The first will" be that of the King of Rome, and I trust that, before his coronation, yoiu- majesty will have persuaded him to Viarry one of the tAvo German ]iriiicesses of wliom we have spoken." "The Saxon or the Bavarian," said the empress. "I think he will (■oini)ly — for he will understand as well as ourselves the urgency of the case. When is the coronation to take place?" MATRIMONIAL PLANS. 103 " In two weeks, your majesty. " " Then poor Joseph has but fourteen days for his grief. When he returns from Frankfort, I shall remind him of his duty as a sovereign. But hark ! It is twelve o'clock — the hour for mass. If the lord chancellor has nothing more to propose, I — " " Pardon me, your majesty. I have an insignificant petition to present — it concerns myself. " " It is a pleasure to me, " said Maria Theresa, " to think that in any way I can gratify you. Speak, then, without fear. What can I do to serve you?" " It is only for the sake of decorum, your majesty, " replied Kaunitz. "You say that I have been useful to the country. I con- fess that I, too, think that I deserve something from Austria. If I were another man, and Kaunitz stood by, as I reviewed in my mind all that he has done and is trying still to do to make Austria power- ful, I would speak thus to your majesty : ' It is in the power of the empress to distinguish merit by elevating it to a position above the common herd. Your majesty has honored Count Kaunitz by call- ing him your right hand. When the head of a body politic is an empress, it is not enough for the right hand to be called a count. '" " Shall I call you prince ?" laughed Maria Theresa. "Just what I was about to propose to your majesty," said Kaunitz, as he made a deeper inclination than usual before the empress. "Then it shall be so," said she, warmly. "From this moment my esteemed minister is Prince Kaunitz, and the letters patent shall be made out this very day. " She extended her hand to the new-made prince, who kissed it fervently . "I take this title, so graciously bestowed, not because it will confer splendor upon my own name, but because it will prove to the world that those who serve Maria Theresa with fidelity, she delights to honor. And now that this trifling matter is arranged, I beg your majesty's permission to retire. " "Until to-morrow," replied the empress, with a smile. She waved her hand ; but as Kaunitz left the room, he heard her following him into the anteroom. He had already opened the door leading into the hall, bvit hearing her still advance, he turned again, and made a profound inclination. " Au revoir, my dear prince, " said the empress, loud enough for Father Porhammer, who waited to accompany her to the chapel, to hear her greeting. The father could not withhold some trace of his displeasure from his countenance, while Kaunitz, with a faint, derisive smile, passed on. The empress, at that moment, reopened the door,*and came out into the hall. Father Porhammer, advancing to her, said, " Did I not i)rove to your majesty the truth of my statement con- cerning the immorality of — " "The what?" said the empress, with an absent air. "Oh yes, yes. I had forgotten. You wished to prove to me that the lord chancellor had some person in his can-iage awaiting his retiu-n. I believe you, father — dovibtless there is some one in the carriage of the lord chancellor, whom it would be improper to name in my presence. But listen to what I liave to say on this subject. It is better for you and for me not to see what goes on either in the lord 8 104 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. chancellor's house or in his carriage. Close your eyes, as I shall mine, to whatever is objectionable in his life. I cannot atf'ord to lose his services. So far as I am concerned, he is blameless. His life may be loose, but his loyalty is firm ; he is a wise and great statesman, and that, you will allow, is a virtue which may well cover a multitude of sins. " Father Porhammer bowed to the will of his sovereign ; Prince Kaunitz went on with his life of debauchery. " Let us hasten to the chapel, " added the empress ; and a page throwing open the doors of another apartment, Maria Theresa joined her lords and ladies in waiting, and the imperial court entered the chapel. But the thoughts of the empress were more of earth than heaven, on that morning. Her heart was filled with maternal cares, and when the services were over, and she had arrived at the door of her cabinet, she dismissed her attendants, and summoned to her presence the marshal of the household, Count Dietrichstein. As soon as he appeared, Maria Theresa said eagerh' : " Come hither, covmt. I wisli to have a confidential conversation with you. You are an old and faithful servant of my family, and I know that I can depend upon your discretion." " Your majesty well knows that I would sooner die than betray a secret of my imperial mistress, " exclaimed good, fat, old Dietrich- stein, fervently. The empress looked kindly at his red, good-humored face. "And you would rather die than tell me an untruth also, is it not so?" said she, smiling. "That," replied Count Dietrichstein, with another smile, "that is an embarrassing question ; for there are cases, when even j'our majesty's self — " " Yes, yes ; but in this instance I earnestly desire to hear the un- varnished truth. " "If so, your majesty's desire is for ine a command, and I will answer truthfully whatever you ask. " "Well, then, listen to me. You have just returned from a tour in Bavaria and Saxony. Of course you have seen the two princesses, Mary Kunigunde and Josepha. " "I know them both," said Dietrichstein, puffing. "Well, tell me what sort of person is the Princess Mary Kvmi- gunde ?" " She is slender, " replied Dietrichstein, shrugging his shoulders ; "slender as a beau-pole. If your majesty will pardon me the ex- pression in favor of its truth, her bones rattle as she walks, and if you should chance to touch her by accident, I jjity you." "What for?" "Because you Avill retreat from the collision bruised." "You area wicked slanderer, count," replied the empress. "You mean to say that the Princess of Saxony is frail and feminine in her ajipearance. " "If your majesty pleases, so be it; but if you looked into her serene highness's face, you might mistake her for a man, neverthe- less." "Holy Virgin! what does the man mean?" cried the empress, astounded. " I mean, " said the count, with a sort of comic seriousness, " that MATRIMONIAL PLANS. 10-5 the frail and feminine princess has a black beard which a cornet might envy. " "Nonsense, count! you saw her at twilight, and mistook a shadow on her face for a beard. " '• Pardon me, your majesty, you commanded me to tell the truth. I saw the princess by sunlight as well as by candlelight. Under all circumstances, this black shadow overhung her not very small mouth ; and I have strong reason for persisting in my opinion that it was a flourishing beard. " "But Josepha of Bavaria — is she handsomer?" "Handsomer, your majesty," cried the old count. "It is said that she is a good and estimable person ; if this be true, her soul is very, very different from her bodj-. Indeed, her beautj' may be said to rival that of the Princess Mary. " " You are a keen critic, " sighed tlie empress. " But suppose you were obliged to marry either one of the princesses, which one would you choose?" "Your majesty !" exclaimed the old count, horror-stricken. "I never would have the assurance to raise my eyes to thoughts of mar- riage with a serene highness. " " Well, then, " said the empress, " suppose you were a prince and her equal in birth, which one then would you prefer?" Tlie count looked at the floor, and was silent. "The truth, the truth!" cried the empress. "Speak out and do not fear. W hatever you say shall be sacred with me. Now tell me, which of the two would you take to wife?" "Well, then," said Count Dietrichstein, with a grimace of ex- cessive disgust, "since your majesty obliges me to suppose the case, I will tell the truth. If by any artifice I could escape, nothing on earth would induce me to marry either one of them. But if tlie knife were at my throat, and I had no other way of saving my life, I would take the Princess Josepha, for she — " "Speak out," said the empress, amused, though sorely disap- pointed. " You would marry Josepha of Bavaria because — " •' Because, " sighed the fat old count, " if she is horribly ugly, she has, at least, something like a svoman's bosom." Maria Theresa broke out into a hearty laugh. " You are right, " said she, "the reason is a very good one, and has its weight. I thank you for your candor, and will turn over in my mind what you have told me." " But your majesty has promised not to betray me, " protested the count with imploring look. "And I will keep my promise faithfully, " replied the empress, reaching him her hand. " Nevertheless, I cling to the hope that you liave exaggerated the defects of the princesses, and that they are not altogether as ugly as you have pictured them to me. " * *This conversation is historical, and the criticism of Count Dietrichstein upon the two princesses, as here related, is almost verbatim. See Wraxall's " Memoirs," vol. ii., page 406. 106 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. CHAPTER XXV. JOSEPHA OF BAVARIA. Festivity reigned at the court and throughout the city of Vienna. The weather was cold, but the streets were thronged with people and liung with garlands. Nothing was thought of but balls, illu- minations, and dress. Every one was curious to see the splendid spectacle of the day — the entrance of the bride of the King of Rome into Vienna. The plans of the lord chancellor were beginning to unfold them- selves. The Archduke Joseph had been crowned King of Rome at Frankfort, and the emjiress on his return, had prepared him for his second bridal. He had stoutly refused at first, but finally had yielded to the reasonings of his mother and the persuasions of his father. He had been told to choose between Mary Kunigunde and Josepha. Not far from Toplitz, as if by accident, he met the Princess Mary out on a hunting party. The princess was on horseback ; but she rode awkwardly, and her demeanor was shy and ungraceful. She well knew the object of this casual meeting, and when the King of Rome approached to greet her, she turned pale and trembled as she felt the gaze of his large blue eyes. Her paleness did not increase her beauty, nor did her shyness contribute to make her interesting. Joseph was annoyed at her taciturnity and disgusted with her ugli- ness. After a few brief words he bowed, and galloped off to join his retinue. The princess looked sadly after him, and returned home with a troubled heart. She knew that she had been dis- dained, and that the King of Rome would never choose her for his bride. She was right. Joseph preferred the Princess Josepha, whom he had also "met by chance." He, like Count Dietrichstein, having tlie knife at his throat, selected her for his bride who was minus the flourishing black beard. It was the 22d of January of the year 1765, and the wedding-day of the King of Rome. From early morning the archduchesses at the palace had been practising a lyric drama from the pen of Metastasio called " 11 Paniasso Confuso. " The music was by Gluck, and his deep bass was heard accompanying tlie sweet rich voices of the bridegroom'.s sisters. They had studied their parts diligently, and felt quite confident of success, as they gathered around the maestro. But Cluck was never satisfied, and he kept Apollo and tlie Muses at their music-lesson until tlieir ladies of honor were obliged to inform them tliat they nnist jiositively retire to their toilets, a courier hav- ing arrived to say tliat the princess had entered the gates of the city. While all thisse prei)aiations were going on around him, the King of Rome tarried in his private apartments. He was in the room wherein he had locked liiniself after the death of Isabella, the room wiu^re day and night he had (if'plorecl his lost ha]ii)iness, until Christina had so rudely awakened liim from his dream of love and sorrow. This miserable consolation had had its effect. Joseph wiped away his tears, and having read Isabella's letters and convinced JOSEPHA OF BAVARIA. 107 himself that she never had loved him, he had forborne to murmur at her loss. On this, his bridal- day, he was thinking of the time when alone and heart-broken he had paced this room for three days and nights ; and now, surrounded by festivity and splendor, he paced the floor again, awaiting the moment when he should have to mount his horse and meet the princess. He was not with the living bride, but with the dead one ; and as he thought of her grace, her smiles, her sur- passing beauty, his lip curled with a sneer, and his brow grew dark and stormy. " And she, too, deceived me, " said he ; " those smiles, those glances, that love, all were false. While she lay in my arms and listened to my words of love, her heart was in the grave with her murdered lover ! Oh, my God ! now that I know that she deceived me, in whom can I place my trust? Even now, what am I but a dependent boy, the slave of the empress and of her all-powerful minister, who force upon me a woman wliom I hate, and bid me make her the mother of my childi'enV Oh, when will my shackles fall, when shall I be free !" In tlie distance was heard the dull sound of a cannon. " Already !" cried the unhappy bridegroom. "It is time for me to meet my bride, and to begin the loathsome farce of a second bridal. Verily, if I did not hate this Josepha, I could pity her. She will not find me a loving husband. The Queen of Rome will never be an envi- able woman !" So saying, he threw around his shoulders his velvet cloak edged with ermine, and left the room to .join his retinue. They were to meet the princess and accompany her to the castle of Schonljrunn. It was there that the imperial family awaited the bridal party, and there in the chapel the marriage was to be solemnized. The streets were thronged with people that shouted for joy ; the balconies and windows were filled with elegant women, who smiled and waved their hantls in greeting to tlie royal pair. For all the world this was a day of rejoicing, except for the two persons for whose sake the rest rejoiced. These had no part in the univerSal gayety ; and the mirth which was inspired by their presence found no echo in their souls — Joseph's heart was full of dislike and ill- will toward his betrothed, and she was unhappy, fearing the recep- tion that awaited her. She had trembled as she thought of the meeting witli Joseph, and then of the proud, powerful, and beauti- ful woman who was his mother. The fame of her intellect, fascina- tions, and beauty had reached the court of Munich, and poor Josepha knew very well that she was neither handsome, cultivated, nor charming. Her education had been neglected, and if she had attained to the honor of being Queen of Rome and Empress-elect of Austi'ia, it was not that she had any right to a station so exalted, it was that her brother was childless and had promised his inheri- tance to Austria. Josepha was sad as she thought of these things, but she could not suppress an emotion of joy when she saw the brilliant cortege that was coming from Vienna to meet her. This proud and handsome horseman, whose blue eyes shone like stars, this was her husband, the lord of her destiny ! She had seen him once before, and had loved him from that moment. True, he had not chosen her from inclination, but she could not shut her heart to the bliss of being 108 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. his wife, he who, to-day a king, would in future years place an imperial crown upon her brow. And now tlie two cavalcades met ; the carriage of the princess drew up, and the King of Rome dismounting, came toward her with a low inclination of the head. Around them stood the noblemen of his suite, whose splendid uniforms and decorations dazzled the eye with their brilliancy. They sprang from their horses and each one reverentially saluted tlie bride-elect. This done, the King of Rome assisted her to alight, that she might mount the magnificent horse which was now led forward by the empress's chief master of the horse. When her betrothed held out his hand to her, Josepha, blushing, looked at him with a timid and tender glance, which seemed to implore a return of her love. She could not speak a word, but she pressed his hand. Joseph, so far from returning the pressure, looked surprised — almost disdainful ; and, stepping back, he left to the master of the horse and the other lords in waiting the care of assisting the princess to mount. She sprang into the saddle with perfect confidence, and grasped her reins with so much skill, tliat although the beautiful animal reared and pranced until his bridle was covered with foam, his rider was perfectly at ease. "She is, at least, a good horsewoman, " said Joseph to himself, as he took his place by her side. And now the bells chimed merrily, and the cannon proclaimed to all Vienna that the royal pair were about to enter the city. Silently they rode througli the flower-strewn streets, silently they heard the joyous shouts of the multitude, here and there smil- ing wearily in return, but both tired of splendor, and both longing for rest. Neither spoke to the other ; what had they to say to one another — they whom policy had chained together for life? At the farther end of the city the state -coach of the empi-ess awaited the princess. With an indifl'erent and careless air, Joseph handed Josepha to the carriage. This time slie dared not press his hand ; but as the door closed upon herself and her governess, she threw herself back upon the velvet cushions and wept bitterly. "For tlie love of Heaven, what meantliese tears, your liighness?" cried the governess. "Your highness's head-dress will be ruined, and your eyes will bo swollen." "'Tis true, " murmured Josepha, "I have no right to weep, as other women do, at such a time. I am nothing but a puppet, that laughs or w(>ops as etiquette ordains. " "Your liighness is excited and does not see your destiny in its true light," replied tlie lad}', witli sympathy. "It is one which any woman on earth might envy. You are about to become the wife of the handsomest prince in all Europe, an emperor in prospect, and son of the great I\Iaria Theresa, whose beauty and goodness are the theme of the whole world. And then the lovely and accomplished Archduchesses of Austria — they are to \)v your sisters-in-law !" "Yes," said the princess, passionately, "and look at me. You have known me since my infancy, dear friend, therefore you need not flatter me because of my station. Look at nie, and tell me if it is not enough to break my lieart, that I must appear before this beautiful empress and her daughters, and that I must try to win the aifectious of this prince, tlie glance of whose eye is enough to kindle JOSEPHA OF BAVARIA. 109 love in the heart of every woman living — oh say, and speak without reserve — tell me if a woman so obscure, so ignorant, and so destitute of charms, can ever hope to be loved or cherished by such a family?" "Your highness is worthy of all affection, and deserves the choicest of the blessings that are in store for you, " replied the lady of honor warmly. " No one knowing your noble heart would say that any station is too exalted for you. " " Oh ! who will be troubled with looking into my heart in imperial Vienna?" sobbed the disheartened Josepha. "Externals are every thing in court ; and I, unhapj^y one, who scarcely dare not utter my heart's yearnings to those who encourage me, what will become of me if I meet with cold glances or scoi'uful words? I feel how little I am skilled to win love, and the consciousness of my defects heightens them and renders me still more repulsive. " "Your highness is uujust toward yourself. No one else would ever dream of speaking in such terms of you. Be happy, dear lady, and you will soon grow comely, too. " "Happy!" sighed the princess, looking from the window at the elegant and graceful prince, who, cold and stern as though he had been following the dead, vouchsafed not a look toward the carriage where sat his bride. With another sigh she turned her head. Her eyes encountered those of the governess, fixed upon her in wondering sympathy. With a bitter smile Josepha laid her hand upon the shoulder of her friend. "I must tell you something, Lucy," said she — "something terri- ble and sad. Hear well my words, and mark them ! I already love my betrothed beyond power of expression ; but he will never return my love. I shall worship him, and 1 feel that he will hate me !" Blushing painfully at the sound of her own words, the princess hid lier face in her hands. The carriage stopped, and now the confused and self- tortured girl had to go forward to meet the emperor, who waited at the foot of the great staircase to conduct her to the presence of the empress. Maria Theresa came gracefully forward, surrounded by her beau- tiful daughters and a dazzling train of lords and ladies. Josepha's head reeled when she saw them, and almost fainting, she sank down at the feet of the empress. "Mercy, gracious empress, mercy!" sobbed the poor girl, almost beside herself with terror ; while, regardless of all courtly decorum, she covered the hand of Maria Theresa with tears and kisses. A sneer was pei'ceptible on the faces of the courtiers, and the young archduchesses smiled derisively ; but Maria Theresa, whose generous heart beat in sympathetic response to the emotion and fright of the poor young stranger, kindly raised her up, and, kissing her foi'ehead, encouraged her with gracious words. " Be welcome, my daughter, " said she, in her clear and silvery voice. " May all the happiness be yours through life ! Come, my children, let us hasten to the chapel. " She made a sign to her husband, and took the arm of the King of Rome. The emperor followed with the Princess Josepha, and now through the splendid halls, that dazzled the eye with festive magnificence, came the long train of courtiers and ladies that graced the pageant of this royal bridal. In the chapel, before the altar, stood Cardinal Megazzi, surrounded by priests and acolytes, all 110 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. arrayed in the pomp and splendor attendant on a solemn Catholic ceremony. The princess had not been wedded by proxy ; it was therefore necessary that she should be married with the blessings of the church, before she proceeded in state to the throne-room to receive the homage due to her as a queen. No time had therefore been given her to retire before the ceremony, and she was married in her travelling-dress. At the entrance of the chapel stood the new ladies in waiting of the Queen of Rome. One of them relieved her of her hat, which the empress replaced by a wreath of myrtle. Then Maria Theresa, having placed the hand of Josepha in that of her son, the imperial cortege approached the altar. As they stood before the chancel, the King of Rome, overcome by the bitterness of the moment, bowed his head to his unfortunate bride and whispered, "Poor Josepha, I pity you !" CHAPTER XXVI. THE MARRIAGE NIGHT. The ceremonial was over. The empress herself had conducted the young Queen of Rome to her apartments ; and she liad stood by her side, while her tire- woman exclianged her dress of golden tissue for a light white negligee of finest cambric trimmed with costly lace. With her own hand Maria Theresa unfastened the myrtle-wreath and coronet of diamonds that encircled her daughter-in-law's brow. She then kissed Josepha affectionately, and, bidding her good-night, she besought the blessing of God upon both her children. And now the princess was alone in this vast apartment. On one side, under a canopy of blue velvet embroidered with gold, was the state-bed of the Queen of Rome. Close by stood the toilet of gold with its wilderness of jewels and etuis, all the gifts of the empress. On the walls of blue velvet hung large Venetian mirrors, filling the room with images of that gorgeous bed of state. In the centre, on a marble table, thirty wax-lights in silver candelabra illumined the splendor of the scene. Tlie heavy velvet window curtains were closed ; but they threw no shadow, for the pai"k of Schonbrunn was illuminated by two hiuidred thousand lamps, which far and near lit up the castle on this festive evening with a fiood of fiery splendor.* The Queen of Rome was alone, her bridesniaids and attendants had left her, and she awaited her husband, who would enter her room through a pri v^ate^^door which, close to the bed of state, led to his own apartments. With beating lieart and in feverish suspense, trembling with hope and fear, Josepha paced lier magnificent room. Heavy sighs broke from her bosom, hot tears fell from her eyes. "He will come,'" cried slie, wringing her hands, "he will come and look into my face with liis heavenly blue eyes, and I — I shall cast down mine like a culprit, and dare not confide my secret to him. O God ! O Goil ! I liave sworn to conceal my infirmity, for it is not contagious and will harm no one — and yet my heart mis- gives me when I tliink that — Oli, no ! no ! It will soon be over, and *IIormayer, " Reiuiuiscences of Vienna," vol. v., page 31. THE MARRIAGE NIGHT. Ill he will never have known it. Were he told of it, it might preju- dice him against me, and how could I bear to see those beauteous eyes turned away from me in disgust? I will keep my secret ; and after — my love shall atone to him for this one breach of faith. Oh, my God ! teach me how to win him ! I have nothing to bring to this splendid court save the gushing fountains of my love for him — oh, my father, why have I nothing but this to offer— why have I neither beauty nor grace to please my husband's eyes — for I love him, oh, I love him already more than my life !" She started, for she heard a sound near the side door. Now the key turned in the lock, and in another moment the king M-alked in. He still wore the magnificent Spanish court-dress in which he had received the homage of his marriage guests. The order of the Golden Fleece was on his breast, and also the sparkling diamond cross of the imperial house of Hapsbui'g. Josepha, blushing, recalled to mind her night negligee, and dared not raise her eyes. For a while they stood opposite to one another, Josepha in pain- ful confusion ; Joseph, his eyes bent with cold scrutiny upon her person. At length he approached and touched her gently on the arm. "Why do you tremble so?" asked he kindly. " Raise your head and look at me. " Slowly she lifted her eyes, and looked at him with a gaze of entreaty. " Now, " said he, with a bitter smile, " am I so frightful that you have reason to tremble at my coming?" "I did not tremble from fear or fright," said she, in a voice scarcely audible. "Ah, you have no confidence in me," said he, "you wish to hide your emotions from me. And yet madame, let me tell you that nothing but mutual and perfect confidence will help us through this hour and through life. Come, then, Josepha, I will set you the example. I will confide in you without reserve. Give me your hand and let us sit together on yonder divan." She placed her trembling hand within his, and he led her to the sofa. A flood of deep and silent joy overwhelmed her heart, as alone in that roj'al apartment, which was hers, she sat by the side of this man whom she had aheady loved with passion. "First, madame, let me ask your forgiveness for accepting a hand which was not freely bestowed by yourself, but was placed in mine by the inexorable policy of the destiny that rules kings. In obeying the commands of your brother, you have not only married one whom you did not know, but perhaps you have been forced to stifle other wishes, other inclinations. " "No," cried she, earnestly, "no. I have left nothing to regret, I have made no sacrifice, I — " " Yes, you have sacrificed your freedom, the most precious boon that Heaven has bestowed on man, to become the galley-slave of policy and princely station. Poor Josepha, I pity you !" " Do not pity me, " said Josepha, tearfully, " pity yourseK, whose freedom has been sacrificed to me. You have given your honored hand to a woman whom you do not love, a woman who would be too happy — " " Had she the power to free herself and me from this compulsory union," interrupted Joseph. "I believe you, for I read in your 112 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. countenance that your heart is good and noble, and gladly would contribute to the happiness of your fellow-creatures. But we must both accept the destiny which the hand of diplomacy has woven for us. The heads that wear the crowns must also wear the thorns. But we will try to lighten the pain to one another. You have be- come my wife without love, and I, too, have become your Imsband — without love. " Josepha's head fell, she sighed, and murmured something which Joseph could not hear. He went on : "I do not come to you with vain pretensions of a man who fancies he has won an honorable woman's heart because the priest has bid them love one another. I will not take advantage of the rights which either dijjlomacy or church has given me over you. Here at least there shall be no dissimulation ; here we shall both be privileged to avow honestly and honorably that we are not lovers. Then let us be friends. I come to you in all frankness, offering myself to be to you as a brother. Perliaps it may come to pass that I win your love ; perchance your goodness and your worth may win my sad heart back again to life — the day may come when we shall be able to say that we love each other. Let us await this day, and soften the interval by mutual confidence and trust. And should it ever come to us, Josepha, we will tlien seal with heart-felt embrace the bond which the church has made between us to-day. Take me, then, as brother and friend, and be to me a sister and companion. Will you, Josepha?" He reached out his hand, and looked at her with a glance of brotherly kindness. Slie gave him hers with a mournful smile, and her eyes sought tlie ground. "Welcome, then, my friend and sister," said Joseph warmly. "Now for unreserved confidence. You promise me that, do you not?" '• I promise, " gasped the poor girl. "And you will open your heart that I may read its every page?" "I will — I promise to keep nothing from you." "I promise the same to you, and perhaps this plant of friendship may one day bear the flowers of love. You are inexperienced in the ways of court-life. You will need a pilot to steer you safe amid reefs and breakers. I will be this pilot to you, I will teach you what to suspect and to avoid. Above all, never venture to have an o]iinion that does not coincide witli that of the empress. We are ail a i)ious and well-brouglit-up family who see with her eyes, and liear with her ears, and never dare confess that we possess sight or liearing in our own persons. Recollect that you, too, must fall in the line of puppets, and give up j'our senses to the empress." "But in the depths of my own lieart I trust that I may see with the eyes of the King of Rome," replied Jospplia with a smile. "For if I am to leai'n from you, I nmst surely dare to use my senses." "Yes ; but let no one suspect that you learn any thing from me. In tliis court we tread on flowers ; and if one of our flowers chances to witlier we cover it over with a pater-nostcr, and that makes all right again." "But suppose it will not be made right?" returned Josepha. "Suppose tliat prayer should fail?" "Gracious Heaven, what do I hear !" cried Joseph. "What pro- fane doubt are you so bold as to utter ! You do not belong to the THE aiARRIAGE NIGHT. 113 stupid, pious band, who think that prayer cures all woes? Poor Joseplia, let no one but me hear such heresy from your lips — pray, pray ; or make believe to pray ; no one will ever ask you whether your heart is in it or not. And if any one seeks to know, answer nothing. Pray on, and mistrust every one." " What ! mistrust the generous friend whom kind Providence has given to me this day !" cried Josepha with feeling. "That I can never do. You have encouraged me to confide in you, and even had you not done so, you would have won my confidence unsought. " "I am glad that you think so, " returned Joseph. "Let us begin at once, then. Have you a wish that I have it in my power to gratify? Or have you any thing in your lieart which you will con- tide to me as a proof of your faith in my friendship?" Josepha started, and her cheeks grew white with fear. This question avv'akened her from her short dream of hope and happiness, and she remembered tliat she had a secret which it was her duty to reveal to her husband. She looked furtively at liim. Perhaps lie had heard something, and this was a trial of her trutli. But no ! His face was tranquil and unsuspecting ; there was nothing searching in the glance of his deep-blue eyes. No! he knew nothing, and wherefore cloud the brightness of the hour with a confession which might crush its promise of future bliss? " Well, " said Joseph kindly, " is there nothing on your heart that you would confide to your friend?" "No!" at last said Josepha resolutely. "My life has been dull and uneventful. It is only to-day that I begin to live ; the sun of hope is dawning upon ni}' heart ; I feel as if I might — " "Hark!" said Joseph, "I think I hear some one coming. Yes; there is surely a light tap at the door. " The king rose hastily and crossed the room toward the little side- door. "Is any one there?" asked he in a loud tone of displeasure. "Yes, your majesty," whispered a trembling voice, "and I pray you earnestly to open the door. " " It is my valet Anselmo, " said Joseph to the princess, while he withdrew the bolt. It was Anselmo, in truth, who, with mysterious mien, beckoned to his lord to come out. " Will your majesty condescend to step into the corrido;-, that I may deliver the message with which I am intrusted?" said the valet. "Is it so weighty, Anselmo, that it cannot lie upon your con- science until morning?" " Not one moment can I defer it, your majesty, for I was told that your majesty's well-being and health depended upon my speed. " The king stepped outside and closed the door. " Who sent you hither, Anselmo?" asked he. " I do not know, sire, but I suspect. It was a female form en- veloped in a long black cloak, with a hood which concealed her face. She came from the gallery which leads to the apartments of their iiuperial highnesses, your majesty's sisters, and entered your majesty's own cabinet, which I had left open while I was lighting your majesty hither. " "And what said she?" asked the king impatiently. " She asked if your majestj' had gone into the queen's apartments. 114 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. Wlien I told her that you had, she held out this note and said : ' Speed to the king, and as you value his health and welfare, give him this note at once. ' She disappeared, and here, your majesty, is the note. " The king took the paper, which by the dim light of the corridor he could not read. "And who do you think is the mysterious lady, Anselmo?" asked he. "Sire, I do not know. Perhaps your majesty will recognize the handwriting." "I wish to know, Anselmo, who you think was hidden under that cloak?" "Well, then, your majesty," said Anselmo, in a whisper scarcely audible, " I think it was the Archduchess Christina. " " I suspected as much, " said the king to himself. " It is some intrigue of hers against the Princess Josepha, whom she hates be- cause I selected her in preference to the sister of Christina's lover, the Elector of Saxony. " * Perhaps Anselmo understood a few words of this soliloquy, for he continued : " A courier arrived from Saxony, and I was told by my sister, the tire -woman of her highness, that the Archduchess Christina had received a packet of letters. " " Very well, Anselmo, " said the king, " if to-morrow you should be asked whether you delivered the note, say that I tore it up with- out opening it. Do you hear?" Dismissing the valet with a wave of the hand, he returned to the princess. " Pardon me, " said he, " for leaving you, and allow me in your presence to read a note which has just been mysteriously delivered into my hands. I wish to give you a proof of my confidence, by in- trusting you at once with my secrets. " So saying, he approached the marble centre-table, and opened the letter. What was it that blanched Josepha' s cheek and made her tremble, as Joseph smiled and looked at her? Why did she stare at him while he read, and why did her heart stand still with fright, as she saw his expression change? He seemed shocked at the contents of the note, and when he raised liis eyes and their glance met that of Josepha, she saw them filled with aversion and scorn. "Madame, " said he, and his voice had grown harsh, "madame, I asked you in good faith whether you had anything to confide to my ho7ior. I expressed a desire to win your confidence. You answered that you had notliiug to tell. Once more I ask, have you any thing to say? Tlie more humiliating the confession, the more will I appreciate your candor. Speak, therefore." Josepha answered not a word. Her teeth chattered so painfully that she could not articulate ; slie trembled so violently that she had to grasp tlie back f)f an arm-cliair for support. Joseph saw this, and he laughed a hoarse and contemptuous * The Princess Christina was in love with the Elector of Saxony; but the Em- f)eror Francis was opposed to the niarriafr''. Christina used all her influence to )rintc about a inarriase between lier l)r()tlier and ;\Iary KiniiKtinde. tlie sister of her lover, liopinf; thereby to pave the way for her own union with the haudsonie Albert. FniliiiK in tliis. .shi> besanie the bitter enemy of the unhappy woman to whom Joseph had given the i)reference. THE MARRIAGE NIGHT. 115 laugh. She did not ask him why he sneered. She threw herself at Ms feet, and raised her arms imploringly. " Mercy, " cried the unhappy woman, " mercy !" He laughed again, and held the paper before her eyes. "Read, madame, read!" said he rudely. "I cannot," sobbed she. "I will not read what has been written of me. I will tell you myself all that I know. I will confide my secret to you ; I will indeed. " " You have nothing to confide, madame," cried Joseph. "With a sincere and holy desire to perform my duty, I asked for your friendship and your confidence. I cast them both back, for you have allowed the hour of trust to go by ! Now it is too late ! You are accused. Do not look to me for protection ; vindicate yourself if you can. Read this letter, and tell me if the writer speaks the truth. " Josepha still knelt at his feet ; but her arms had fallen in de- spair. She knew that she had nothing more to hope from her hus- band : she felt that she was about to be sentenced to a life of utter misery. "You will not read?" said Joseph, as unnoticed, Josepha lay at his feet. " If so, I must read the letter for you myself. It warns me not to come too near to your royal person. It — " "I will spare you, sire," exclaimed she, as with the energy of despair she rose to her feet. " You will not let me speak, you shaU see for yourself !" With a frantic gesture, she tore her dress from her neck anl shoulders, and heedless that she stood with arms and bosom exposed, she let it fall to the floor, and bowed her head as if to receive the stroke of the headsman's axe. " Know my secret, " said she, as she folded her hands and stood before her outraged husband. "And now hear me. A few months ago I had a beloved brother, whom I loved the more that lie was un- fortunate and afilicted. From his childhood he had suffered from a malady which his physicians called leprosy. The very servants deserted him, for it was said that the disease was contagious. I loved my brother with devotion ; I went to him, and nursed him until he died. God shielded me, for I did not take the malady. But on my neck and back there came dark spots which, although they are painful, are not contagious. My physicians told me that my strong constitution had rejected the leprosy, and these spots were a regeneration of my skin, which would soon disappear. This, sire, is my fatal secret ; and now judge me. It is in your powei- to make me the happiest of mortals, by granting me a generous pardon ; but I will not complain if you condemn and despise me." "Complain if you choose, it is indifferent to me," cried Joseph, with a hoarse laugh. " Never in this world shall you be my wife. If the hateful tie that binds me to you cannot be unloosed, I will make you answerable for every day of disgust and misery that I am forced to pass under the same roof with you. If I am cursed before the world with the name of your husband, I shall punish you in secret with my everlasting hate. " As if stricken by lightning, she fell to the floor. Her fallen dress exposed to view her beautiful form. Her arms, which were folded above her head, were round and white as those of a Greek statue ; and as she lay with her full, graceful shoulders bared almost 116 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. to the waist, she looked like Niobe just stricken by the wrath of a god. Joseph was uumiudful of this. He had no sympathj^ with the noble sacrifice which her loving heart had offered to a dying brother. He saw neither her youth nor her grace ; he saw but those dark spots upon her back, and he shuddered as she raised her arm to clasp his feet. "Do not touch me, " exclaimed he, starting back. "Your touch is pollution. We are forever divorced. To day the priest joined our hands together, but to-night I part them never more to meet. Farewell. " And hurling at her prostrate form the letter which had betrayed her, he turned and left the room. CHAPTER XXVII. AN UNHAPPY MARRIAGE. It was the morning after the wedding. Maria Tlieresa had just completed her toilet, and was smiling at her own beautiful image reflected in the looking-glass. She looked every inch an empress in her rich crimson velvet dress, with its long and graceful train, and its border of ermine. Her superb blond hair had been exquisitely dressed by her little favorite Charlotte von Hieronymus. It was sprinkled witli gold-powder, and the coiffure was heightened by a little cap of crimson velvet, attached to the hair by arrows of gold set with costly brilliants. The complexion of the empress was so lovely, that she never wore j-oiige ; and surely such eyes as hers needed none of the "adulteries of art" to heighten their brilliancy or beauty. Although she was in her forty-ninth year, and had given birth to sixteen children, Maria Theresa was still beautiful ; not only youthful in appearance, but youthful in heart, and in the strength and greatness of her intellect. She loved the emperor as fondlj- as she had done twenty -eight years before, and each of her ten living cliildren was as dear to her maternal heart as if each had been an only child. She liad arrayed herself with unusual magnificence to celebrate the entry of the newly-married couple into Vienna. The imperial cortege was to stop at the cathedral of St. Steplieu, there to witness the bridals of twenty-five young couples, all of whom the empress had dowered in honor of her son's second marriage. "Surely the prayers of these fifty lovers will bring happiness upon the heads of my son and his wife," said the emj^ress to herself. "They need prayers indeed, for poor Josepha is very unlike oiir peerless Isabella, and I fear she will not be attractive enougli to cause the dead to 1)(> forgotten. Still, she seems mild and kind- hearted, and I have already read in her eyes that she is in love with Joseph. I liope this will lead him to love her in return. Some- times a man will love a woman through pitv, afterward through habit." A nervous and impatient knock at her door interrupted the cur- rent of the empress's thoughts ; the door was flimg open without further ceremony, and the King of Rome entered the room. He AN UNHAPPY MARRIAGE. 11? was pale and agitated, and to his mother's affectionate welcome he replied by a deep inclination of the head. The empress perceived at once that something was wrong, and her heart beat rapidly. , " My dear boy, " said she, " you do not wear a holiday face, and your young bride — " "I have no bride," inteiTupted Joseph, angrily. "I have come to beg of your majesty to discontinue these rejoicings, or at least to excuse me from appearing in public at the side of the Princess of Bavaria. She is not my wife, nor ever shall be !" "What means this?" stammered the empi'ess, bewildered. " It means that my marriage is null and void ; and that no human power shall force me to be husband of a creature tainted with leprosy." The empress uttered a cry of horror. "My son, my son!" exclaimed she, "what xmheard-of charge is thisV" "A charge which is a miserable ti'uth, your majesty. Do you not remember to have heard that the natural son of Charles of Ba- varia had died, not long ago, of leprosy which he had contracted during a journey to the East? Well, his tender and self-sacrificing half-sister volunteered to nurse him, and was with him until he died. Your majesty, no doubt, will look upon this as something very fine and Christian-like. I, on the contrary, would have found it more honorable, if the princess had advised us of the legacy she wears upon her back. " " Woe to her and to the house of Bavaria, if jou speak the truth, my son !" cried the empress, indignantly. " If your majesty will send Van Swieten to her, you may con- vince yourself of the fact. " A few moments later Van Swieten entered the room. His fame was European. He was well known as a man of great skill and science ; added to this, his noble frankness and high moral worth had greatly endeared him to the imperial family. Maria Theresa went hastily forward to meet him. "Van Swieten," said she, with a voice trembling from agitation, "you have been our friend in many an hour of sorrow, and many a secret of the house of Hapsburg has been faithfully buried in your loyal heart. Help me again, and, above all, let it be in secrecy. The King of Rome says fearful things of his wife. I will not be- lieve them imtil I hear your verdict. Go at once, I implore you, to the princess, and command her, in mj^ name, to declare her malady. " " But, your majesty, she has not called for my advice, " replied Van Swieten, with surprise. "Then she mvist take it unasked," said the empress. "The prin- cess will receive you, and you will know how to win her to reveal her condition. As soon as you leave her, return to me." Van Swieten bowed and left the room. The empress and her son remained together. Neither spoke a word. The King of Rome stood in the embrasure of a window, looking sullenly up at the sky. The empress walked hurriedly to and fro, careless that her violent motions were filling her dress with the gold powder that fell from her head like little showers of stars. " Christina was right to warn me, " said she, after a long pause. * I never should have consented to this alliance with the daughter 118 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. of my enemy. It is of no use to patch up old enmities. Charles was humbled and defeated by me, and now comes this Josepha to revenge her father's losses, and to bring sorrow to my child. Oh, my sou, why did you not follow my counsel, and marry the Princess of Saxony? But it is useless to reproach j^ou. The evil is done — let us consult together how best we may bear it. " "Not at all!" cried Joseph. "We must consult how we may soonest cast it away from us. Your majesty will never require of me the sacrifice of remaining bound to that woman. I obeyed your behest ; and in spite of my disinclination to a second marriage, I bent my will before the necessities of diplomacy, and the command of mj' sovereign. But we are now on a ground where the duty of a subject ends, and the honor of a man stands preeminent. I never will consent to be the husband of this woman whose person is dis- gusting to me. Far above all claims of political expediency, I hold my right as a man. " "But you hold them with unbecoming language, " replied the empi'ess, who did not at all relish the tone of the King of Rome. "And let me tell you, my royal son, that an upright and honorable prince thinks less of his rights as a man than of his duties as a ruler. He strives, while a prince, to be a man ; and while a man, to sacri- fice his inclinations to the calls of a princely station." "But not his personal honor, " cried Joseph. "Your majesty's code is that of Macchiavelli, who counsels a prince rever to let his feelings as a man interfere with his policy as a ruler. " The empress was about to make an angry rejoinder to this remark, when the door oi^ened, and Van Swieten reappeared. "Ah !" said the empress, "did you see her, Van Swieten?" "Yes, your majesty, " replied Van Swieten, with emphasis, "I have seen the Queen of Rome. " " Do you mean to say that she has no disease that unfits her to be the wife of the King of Rome?" asked Maria Theresa. "Her onl}- malady is a cutaneous one, which in a short time will be completely cured. Some persons are so happily organized that they throw off disease, even when in contact with it. The princess possesses this sound and healthy organization. The poison which she inhaled by her brother's bedside, has settled upon her skin in a harmless eruption — her constitution is untouched. In a few weeks all trace of it will disappear, and nothing will remain to remind us of her noble disregard of self, save the memory of her heroism and magnanimity. For, indeed, your majesty, it is easier to confront death on the battle-field than to face it in the jiestiferous atmos- pliere of a sick-room." Maria Theresa tiu-ned with a radiant smile toward her son. " You see. my son, " said she, " that you have done injustice to your noble wife. Go, then, and entreat her forgiveness." " No, your majesty, " said a soft voice behind them, " it is for me to implore my husl)and's forgiveness." The empress turn<'(l and l)eheld her daughter-in-law, splendidly attired, but pale and wan witli immistakable grief. "Josepha, how came you hither?" asked she. " I followed Herr van Swieten, " replied Josepha. "He told me that your majesty ;nid tb(> King of Rome were here, awaiting his verdict, and I judged from his maimer that it would be in my favor. Therefore I came, and having heard his flattering words, which I AN UNHAPPY MARRIAGE. 119 do not deserve, I am here to inculpate myself. No, Herr van Swieten, if there were any merit in suffering for a brother whom I dearly loved, it would all be effaced by tlie wrong which I have done to the King of Rome. I feel that I was guilty in not confiding my malady to your majesty, and I bow my head before the justice of my pvinishment, severe though it may be. " " It shall not be severe, my daughter, " said the empress, whose kind heart was completely overcome by Josepha's humility — "I, for my part, forgive you ; you are already sufficiently punished. " " I thank your majesty, " returned Josepha, kissing her out • stretched hand. "It is easy for one so magnanimous, to pardon the guilty ; but my husband, will he also forgive me?" She turned her pale and imploring face toward Joseph, who, with his arms crossed, looked scornfully back. "No, "said she sadly, "no. To obtain his forgiveness, I must make a full confession of my fault. " She approached the window, but her head was cast down so that she did not see with what a look of hate Joseph beheld her advanc- ing toward liim. " To obtain your pardon, sire, " said she, " I must say why I de- ceived you. It was because I prefen-ed perjury to the loss of my earthly happiness — tlie unspeakable happiness of being your wife. I was afraid of losing my treasure. For I love you beyond all power of expression ; from the first moment of our meeting, I have loved you, and this love which, thanks to Almighty God, I have a right to avow before the world — this love it was that misled me. Oh, my husband, have mercy, and forgive the fault that was born of my ex- cessive love for you. A whole life of love and obedience shall atone for my sin. Forgive me, forgive me, for the sake of my love !" And, overwhelmed by her grief, the princess knelt at the feet of her husband, and raised her hands in supplication for pardon. The empress looked on with sympathetic heart and tearful eyes ; she expected at every moment to see Joseph raise up his wife, and press her to his heart for her touching avowal of love. She expected to hear him implore forgiveness ; but she was sadly mistaken. Joseph stood immovable, his eyes flashing scorn and fury at the kneeling princess before him. This outraged all the pride of Maria Theresa's womanhood. Hastily approaching Josepha, and stretching her arms toward her, she said : " If Joseph has no mercy in his obdurate heart, I at least will not witness such humiliation on the part of his wife. Rise, my daughter, and take shelter under my love ; I will not suffer you to be oppressed — not even by my own son." She would liave raised Josepha, but the poor girl waved her gently back. " No, dear lady, " said she, sobbing, " let me remain until he forgives me. " " Let her remain, your majesty, "• cried Joseph with a burst of wrath, " she is in her pi-oper pl^ce. But if she means to kneel until she has obtained my forgiveness, let her kneel throughout all eter- nity ! I consented to this maiTiage for expediency's sake, and I would have done my best to make tlie burden as light for us both as lay in my power. Your majesty knows how she has deceived me ; you have heard her pitiful lie with its pitiful excuse. I might have forgiven her for marrying me, with her disgusting disease, but for being a liar — never !" g 120 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. "Enough," cried the empress, as much excited by her son's ob- duracy as by Josepha's touching confession. " This scene must end, and so help me God, it shall never be enacted a second time ! You are bound to one another for life, and together you shall remain. Each mortal has his weight of grief to bear. Bear yours in silence, and bear it as becomes your dignity and station. Have the manli- ness to smile before the world, my son, as beseems a prince who has more regard for his princely duties than for his rights as a man to happiness." And with that imposing grandeur which Maria Theresa knew so well how to assume, she continued : " Rise, Queen of Rome, and never again forget either your own royal station or the dignity of your womanhood. Give her your hand, my son ; if you will not love, you must at least lionor and respect your wife. The bells of Vienna even now are pealing your w^elcome ; the people await their sovereigns, and it does not become us to keep them in suspense on such an occasion as this. " Without looking back to see the effect of her words, the empress left the room, and called to her pages to fling wide the palace doors. " Apprise the court that we are ready to move, " said she, in a commanding voice, "and let the carriages approach." The pages threw open the wide doors ; the emperor and the arch- duchesses entered, and following them came the courtiers and ladies of the imperial household in alfthe splendor of flashing jewels and costly robes. The empress, with unruffled serenity, advanced to meet them. Not once were her eyes cast behind toward the unhappy couple, whom she knew perfectly well had yielded to the force of circum- stances, and were already throwing the veil of etiquette and courtly deconun over their bleeding hearts. An hour later the imperial family made its entry into Vienna. In her gilded state-carriage sat the proud and beautiful empress, and at her side was the pale Queen of Rome. On either side of the carriage rode the two husbands, the Emperor Francis of Lorraine and the King of Rome. The people once more shouted for joy, wishing long life to the imperial pair, and joy to the newly-married couple. From one side to another the empress and the queen bowed and smiled to all, while the King of Rome thanked the enrajitured Viennese for their welcome. On this day appeared a new color in Vienna, so called in honor of Joseph's deep-blue eyes ; it was called " imperial blue." And the bells chimed ; the cannon roared ; while in the cathedral th(> fiftv lovers awaited the King and Queen of Rome, whose mar- riage filled all hearts with joy, and seemed to realize every dream of hajjpiness on earth. CHAPTER XXVIII. A STATESMAN'S HOURS OF DALLIANCE. "Are there many people in the anteroom?" asked Prince Kaunitz of the state referendarius, Baron Binder. "Yes, your highness, " returned Binder, "all waiting impatiently for your appearance. " A STATESMAN'S HOURS OF DALLIANCE. 121 "Let them wait, the stupid, stiaitting representatives of little- ness ! The more insignificant the petty masters, the more conceited are the petty ambassadors. I have no time to see them to-day. We are at peace with the whole world, and our only diplomacy regards marrying and giving in marriage. " "So far you have nothing to boast of in that line, " said Binder, laughing. " There are all sorts of stories afloat about the unhappy marriage of the King of Rome. Some go so far as to say that he sliows his dislike in public." "Bah! what matters it whether a prince is a happy husband or not? When a king sets up pretensions to conjugal felicity, he is either an egotist or a fool. If the King of Rome cannot love his good, stupid, ugly wife, he can make love to the dowry she brings him. A goodly inheritance comes with her; what matters it if a v.-oman be thrown into the bargain?" "Ah, prince, a woman is sometimes harder to conquer than a province ; and I think the King of Rome would much rather have won his Bavaria with the sword." "Because he is a blockhead full of sublime nonsense, who mis- takes his love of novelty for wisdom. He would break his head against a wall, this obstinate King of Rome, while I crept safely through a mouse-hole. Walls are not so easilj^ battered down as he supposes ; but mouse-holes abound everywhere, as this sapient king will find out some of these days. It was much easier for us to creep into Bavaria Avith tlie lielp of the lovely Josepha, than to flourish our sword in her brother's face. He has not long to live, and we shall come peacefully in possession of his fair province. " "Or rather, the war for its possession will be waged in the king's private apartments." "On that silly subject again !" exclaimed Kaunitz, impatiently. "If your heart bleeds so freely for the sentimental sorrows of the King of Rome, you may have another opportunity for your sensi- bilities in the marriage of his brother Leopold ; for I assure you that his intended is not one whit handsomer, or more intelligent, than Josepha of Bavaria. So you see that the King of Rome will not be apt to envy his brother. " "Your highness is to escort the Infanta of Spain to Innspruck?" " Not I, indeed ; that honor I do not confer upon insignificant princesses who are nothing but grand-duchesses elect. I go to Innspruck one day sooner than the imperial family, to inspect the preparations lor the festivities, and tlieu I shall go as far as the gates of Innspruck — no farther, to receive Donna ]\Iaria Louisa. " "Tliat is the reason why your levee is so crowded to-day, " replied Binder laughing. " The foreign ministers wish to take leave of their master. And now they have waited long enough for you, prince. " "I shall not see one of them. Austria, thanks to me, is now so powerful, that I need give myself no concern to soothe the anger of a dozen petty envoys, and to-day there are none other in the ante- room. " "The Dutch and Saxon ministers," urged Binder. "Little nobodies, " said Kaunitz, with a shrug. "I will not see them. " "But, indeed, you presume too much upon their littleness. Only yesterday you invited tlie Hessian ambassador to dine, and then you sat down to table without him. " 122 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. "He was three minutes behind the time. And do you imagine that Prince Kaunitz waits for a poor little Hessian envoy? I did it on purpose to teach him punctuality. " Here the prince rang a bell, and ordered a page to dismiss the gentlemen in the anteroom.* Baron Binder looked after the page and shook liis head. Kaunitz smiled. " Enough of ambassadors for to-day. The ship of Austria lies proudly and safely in the haven of her own greatness ; and would you deprive the pilot of a few liours of relaxation? I shall have to take the helm again to-morrow, when I go to Innspruck, and do you grumble if for a few hours I enjoy life to-day?" "I was not aware that dismissing one's visitors was a way to enjoy life, " said Binder. " I do not mean that, you old pedant. Do you hear that tapping at the door?" " Yes, I hear it. It is from the little private door that leads to the corridor." " Well, tliat corridor, as you know, leads to a side-entrance of the palace, and if you look out of the window you will see there the equipage of the liandsomest, frailest, aud most fascinating actress in all Vienna — the equipage of the divine Foliazzi. Hear how the knocking grows louder. My charmer becomes impatient. " " Allow me to retire, then, " said Binder, " and leave the field to the prima donna." As he left the room, lie mvittered : "If Kaunitz were not a great statesman, he would be a ridiculous old fop !" Kaunitz listened with perfect unconcern to the repeated knock- ing of his cliarmer until Binder was out of sight, then lie walked up to the looking-glass, smoothed his locks, straightened his ruffles, and drew the bolt of the door. Tlie beautiful Foliazzi, in a coquet- tish and most becoming morning- costume, radiant with smiles and beauty, entered the room. Kaunitz greeted her coldly, and answered her rapturous saluta- tion ])y a faint nod. " Your impatience is very annoying, Olympia, " said he ; "you beat upon my door like a drum-major." " Your higlmess, it is the impatience of a longing heart," said the singer. " Do you know that it seems to me a thousand years since last I was allowed to enter these gates of Paradise ! For eight days I have been plunged in deepest sorrow, watcliing your carriage as it passed by my house, snatching every note from my footman's hands in the ho{)e tliat it might be one from you — hoiking in vain, and at last yielded myself up to fell despair." " You express yourself warmly, " said Kaunitz, unmoved. " Yes, indeed ; for a feeling lieart always tiiids strong ex])ression, '' answered thc^ signora, showing a row of teeth beLwcen her rosy lijts that looked like precious pearls. "And now my adored reprobate, why have you banished me from your presence for an eternity? Which of my two enemies have prevailed against me, politics or the Countess Clary? Justify yourself, unkind I)nt beloved prince ; say that you have not deceived me, for my heart yearns to forgive you?" She came very, very near, and with her bewitching smiles looked up into Kaunitz's face. Kaunitz bent to receive the caress, and laid his hand fondly upon her raven black hair. " Is it true that you liave longed for me — vei-y true indeed?" said he. * Report of the Prussian ambassador Baron I'''iirKt to Frederick II. A STATESMAN'S HOUES OF DALLIANCE. 123 " I never knew how dear you were to me until I had endured the intolerable pangs of your absence, " replied Foliazzi, leaning her head upon the prince's shoulder. "You love me, then, Olympia? Tell me, dearest, tell me truly?" "Unjust ! You ask me such a question !" cried the signora, put- ting her arms around the prince's neck. "If I love you? Do you not feel it in every pulsation of my heart? do you not read it in every glance of my eyes? Can you not feel that my only thought is of you — my only life, your love?" " I am really glad to hear it, " said Kaunitz, with statue-like tranquillity. " And now I will tell you why I have not sent for you this past week. It was that I might not interrupt your tender in- terviews with Count Palffy, nor frighten away the poor enamoured fool from the snares you were laying for liim." The signora looked perfectly astounded. "But surely," stam- mered she, " j'our liighness does not believe — " " Oh, no ! I believe nothing ; I know that the Olympia who loves me so passionately, has been for two days the fair friend of the young, rich, and prodigal Count Palffy." Here the signora laughed outright. "But, your highness, if you knew tliis, why did you not stop me in my protestations, and tell me so?" "I only wanted to see whether, really, you were a finished actress. I congratulate you, Olympia ; I could not have done it better myself. " "Prince, " said the signora, seriously, "I learned the whole of this scene from yourself ; and in my relations with you I have fol- lowed the example you gave me. While you swore eternal love to me, you were making declarations to the Countess Clary. Oh, my lord, I have suffered at your hands, and the whole world sympa- thizes with my disappointment! The whole world knows of your double dealings with women, and calls you a heartless young libertine. " "Does it?" cried Kaunitz, for a moment forgetting his coldness, and showing his satisfaction in his face. " Does it, indeed, call me a heartless young libertine?" "Yes," replied the signora, who seemed not to see his gratifica- tion. " And when people see a man who is adored by women, and is false to them all, they say, 'He is a little Kaunitz. '" Wlien the signoi'a said this, Kaunitz did what he had not done for years, he broke out into a laugh, repeating triumphantly, " A little Kaunitz. But mark you," continued he, "other libertines are called little Kaunitzes, but I alone am the great Kaunitz. " "True," sighed the signora, "and this great Kaunitz it is who has abandoned me. While I worshipped the air he breathed, he sat at the feet of the Countess Clary, repeating to her the self-same pro- testations witli which an liour before he had intoxicated my senses. Oh, when I heard tliis, jealousy and despair took possession of my soul. I was resolved to be revenged, and so I permitted the advances of Count Palffy. Ha! while I endured his presence, I felt that my heart was wholly and forever yours ! Oh, my adored, my great Kaunitz, say that you love me, and at your feet I throw all the lesser Kaunitzes in token of my fealtj^ !" The signora woidd have flung her arms around him, but Kaunitz with a commanding gesture waved her off. 124 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. "Very Avell done, Olympia, " said he, nodding liis head. "You are as accomplished as you are beautiful ; and well I understand how it is that you infatuate by your cliarnis all manner of little Kaunitzes. But now listen to Kaunitz the great. I not only allow, but order you to continue your intrigue with Count Palffy. Take every thing he offers ; wring his purse dry ; and the sooner yovi ruin him the better. " "That means that I importune j'ou with my love. Farewell, prince, and may you never repent of your cruelty to poor Olympia. " "Stay," said Kaunitz, coolly. "I have not done with you. Continue your amours with the Hungarian, and love him as much as you choose, provided — " "Provided?" echoed the singer anxiously, as Kaunitz paused. "Provided you affect before the world to be still my mistress." "Oh, my beloved prince," cried Foliazzi, "you will not cast me off !" and in spite of his disinclination she folded Kaunitz to her heart. The prince struggled to get free. "You have disarranged my whole dress," said he, peevishly. "On account of your folly I shall have to make my toilet again. Hear me, and let me alone. I said that you would affect to be my mistress. To this end j-ou will drive as usual to the side-door by which you have been accustomed to enter the palace, and while your carriage stands tliere for one hour, you shall be treated to a costly breakfast in my little boudoir every morning." "By your side, my own prince?" " By yourself, my own Ol3anpia. I have not time to devote an hour to you every day. Your carriage shall stand at my door in the morning. Every evening mine will be for an hour before yours, and while it remains there I forbid you to be at home to any one whatsoever. " " I shall think of nothing but you until that hour, " said the signora, fondly. " Vraiment, you are very presuming to suppose that I shall trouble myself to come in the carriage," replied Kaunitz, contemptuously. "It is enough that the coach being there, the Avorld will suppose that I am there also. A man of fashion must have the name of possessing a mistress ; but a statesman cannot waste his valuable time on women. You are my mistress, ostensibly, and therefore I give you a year's salary of four thousand guilders." "You are an angel — a god !" cried La Foliazzi, this time with genuine rapture. "You come upon one like Jupitei-, in a shower of gold." " Yes, but I have no wish to fall into the embraces of my Danae. Now, hear my last words. If you ever dare let it transpire that you are not really my mistress, I sliall ])unish you severely. I will not only stop your salary, but I will cite you before the conunittee of morals, and you slinll be forced into a marriage with somebody." The singer shuddered and drew back. " Let me go at once into my boudoir. Is my breakfast ready?" "No — your morning visits tliere begin to-morrow. Now go home to (yount PallTy, and do not forget our contract." "I shall not forget it, prince," replied tlie signoj-a, smiling. "I await your coach this evening. You may kiss me if you choose. " PRINCE KAUNITZ AND RITTER GLUCK. 135 She bent her head to his and held out her delicate cheek, fresh as a rose. "Simpleton," said he, slightly tapping her beautiful mouth, " do you suppose that the great Kaunitz would kiss any lips but those which, like the sensitive mimosa, shrink from the touch of man ! Go away. Count Palffy will feel honored to reajj the kisses I have left." He gave her his hand, and looked after her, as with light and graceful carriage she left the room. " She is surpassingly beautiful, " said Kaunitz to himself. " Every one envies me ; but each one thinks it quite a matter of course that the loveliest woman in Vienna should be glad to be my mistress. Ah! two o'clock. My guests await me. But before I go I must bring down the Countess Clary from the airy heaven which she has built for herself. " He rang, and a page appeared ; for from the time he became a prince, Kaunitz introduced four pages in liis household, and kept open table daily for twelve persons. " Tell the Countess Clary, " said he, " that in a few moments I will conduct her to the dining-room. Then await me in my puder- kaminer. " CHAPTER XXIX. PRINCE KAUNITZ AND RITTER GLUCK. Prince Kaunitz had finished his promenade in the powder- room, and having ascertained by means of his mirror that his peruke was in order, he betook himself to the apartments of the Countess Clary, to conduct her to table. The young countess, Kaunitz's niece, and a widow scarcely thirty years of age, flew to greet her uncle, radiant with smiles and happiness. "What an unexpected honor you confer upon me, my dear uncle!" said she. with her sweet low voice. "Coming yourself to conduct me to the table ! How I thank you for preparing me a triumph which every woman in Vienna will envy me." " I came with no intention whatever of preparing you a triumph or a pleasure. I came solely because I wish to have a few words with you before we go to dinner. " " I am all ears, your highness, " said the countess, smiling. Kaunitz looked at his young and lovely niece with uncommon scrutiny. " You have been crying, " said he, after a pause. "No, indeed," said she, blushing. " Do you suppose that you can deceive me? I repeat it, you have been crying. Will yovi presume to contradict me?" "No, dear uncle, I will not." " And wherefore? No prevarication ; I must know. " The young countess raised her soft blue eyes to the face of the haughty prince. "I will tell the truth," said she, again blushing. "I was crying because La Foliazzi was so long with you to-day." "Jealous, too I" said Kaunitz, with a sneer. "And pray, who ever gave yon, the right of b'-ing jealous of me?" The countess said nothing, but her eyes filled with tears. 126 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. " Allow me to discuss this matter with you. I came for this purpose. Our relations must be distinctly understood, if they are to last. You must have the goodness to remember their origin. When you were left a widow you turned to me, as your nearest rela- tive, for assistance. You were vmprotected, and your husband had left you nothing. I gave you my i)rotection, not becavise I was in any way pleased with you, but because you were my sister's cliild. I invited yovi hither to do tlie lionors of my house, to give orders to the cooks and steward, to overlook my household arrangements, and to receive my guests iu a manner worthy of their host. To insure you the appearance and consideration due to you as my niece and as the lady of my house, I gave you a remuneration of two thousand guilders a year. Were not these my terms?" " Yes, your highness, they were. Tliey filled me with gratitude and joy ; and never will I forget j^our kindness." "It seems, however, that you do forget it, " rejslied the heartless un- cle. " How does it happen that you take the liberty of being unhappy because La Foliazzi is iu my room? What business is it of yours, whom I receive or entertain? Have I ever given you the slightest hope that from my niece I would ever raise you to the eminence of being my wife?" "Never, never, dear uncle," said the countess, scarlet with shame. "You have never been otherwise to me than my generous benefactor. " " Then oblige me by silencing the absurd rumors that may have led you into the delusion of supposing that I intended to make of you a princess. I wish you to know that I have no idea of marrying again ; and if ever I should form another matrimonial alliance, it will either be with an imperial or a roj'al princess. Will you be so good as to remember this, and to act accordingly?" " Certainly, " replied the countess, her eyes filling with tears. " I assure your highness that I have never been so presuming as to regard you otherwise than as my kinsman and guardian. My feelings of admiration for you are indeed enthusiastic ; but I have never felt any thing toward you but the attachment of a daughter." " Pray do not trouble yourself to feel any thing at all on my account, " said Kauuitz, ill-humoredly. " I am not under the neces- sity of playing the part of a tender father toward you ; therefore, dry up the tears you took the trouble to shed on La Foliazzi 's account. But enough of this folly. I hope that we understand each other, and that I will not have to repeat this conversation. Be so good as to take my arm. We will go forward to meet our guests. " The young countess took the arm of the prince, and tliey entered the drawing-room. The guests had long been assembled there, but it never occurred to Kaunitz to make any apology for his late ap- pearance. Nevertheless, his guests were all noble ; some of them representatives of })rineely houses or powerfid kingdoms. Kaunitz, however, was not only the all-]iowerful minister of JNlaria Theresa ; it was well known that his slender, diamond -studded fingers directed the policy of all Europe. No one in that room had the courage to resent liis rudeness. All seemed to feel honored as he walked liaughtily forward with a slight inclination of his head to the many, and a condescending smile to the few whom it pleased him to distinguish by his notice.* * Wraxall, " Memoirs," vol. i. , page 380. PRINCE KAUNITZ AND RITTER GLUCK. 127 Prince Kaunitz did not choose to perceive that several distin- p,uished ambassadors, as well as a German prince, himself a reign- ing sovereign, were present as his guests. He passed them all by. to accost a small, graceful man who, seated in a recess, had received no further attention from the high-born company than a condescend- ing nod. Kaunitz gave him his hand, and welcomed him audibly. Tlie honored guest was Noverre, the inventor of the ballet as it is Ijerformed to-day on the stage. Noverre blushed with pleasure at t!ie reception given him, while the other guests scarcely concealed llieir chagrin. Just then the folding-doors were thrown wide open, and the steward announced in a loud voice that the table of his lord the prince was served. The company arose, and the ladies looked to see which of them was to have the honor of being conducted to the table by the host. Kaunitz feigned neither to see nor to hear. He continued his conversation with Noverre, and when he had quite done, he sauntered carelessly up to his other guests. Suddenly he paused, and his eyes wandered from one to another with a search- ing glance. " Good Heaven !" exclaimed he, " of what a rlidenesswe were about to be guilty. I had invited Ritter Gluck to meet us to-day, and he has not yet arrived. It shall not be said of me that I was ever wanting in respect to genius as transcendent as his. I must beg of my distinguished guests to await his arrival before going to dinner."* Hereupon he resumed his conversation with Noverre. The other guests were indignant, for they all felt the insult. The nobles disapproved of the fashion, which had been introduced by Kaunitz, of mingling artists and sav((ns of no birth with the aristocracy of Vienna; and the ambassadors felt it as a personal injury that Kaunitz, who yesterday had refused to wait for them, to-day called upon them to wait for a musician. Kaunitz pretended not to see the displeasure which, nevertheless, his guests were at no great pains to conceal, and he went on talking in an animated strain with Noverre. The poor dancer, meanwhile, gave short and embarrassed answers. He had remarked the discon- tent of the company, and the prince's over-politeness oppressed him, the more so as he perceived one of the lords g^-adually approaching, with the intention of addressing the prince. With the deepest respect the dancer attempted to withdraw, but the merciless Kaunitz caught him by one of the buttons of his velvet coat, and held him fast. " Do not stir, " said the prince. " I see the duke quite as well as you do, but he is a liar and a braggart — I dislike him, and he shall not speak with me. Tell me something about the new ballet that YOU are arranging for the emperor's festival. I hear that Gluck has composed the music. But hush ! Here comes the viaestro. " Kaunitz walked rapidly forward and met Gluck in the middle of the room. They greeted one another cordially, but proudly — as two princes might have done. Around them stood the other guests, frowning to see these two men, both so proud, so conscious of great- ness, scarcely seeming aware that others besides themselves were present. Gliick was in full court-dress ; at his side a sword ; on his breast the brilliant order of the pope. With unembarrassed courtesy * Swinburne, vol. i., page 80. 128 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. he received the greeting of the prince, and made no apology for his tardy appearance. "Thank Heaven, you have come at last !" exclaimed Kaunitz, in an audible voice. " I was afraid that the gods, angels, and spirits who are the daily associates of the great maestro would deprive us poor mortals of the honor of dining with the favorite of the Muses and the Gi'aces. " " The gods, the Muses, and the Graces are the associates of Prince Kaunitz, " returned Gluck. " If they are not to be found in their temples, we may be sure that they have taken refuge here. " Kaunitz, who never vouchsafed a civil word in return for com- pliments, bowed his head, and with a gratified smile turned to his assembled guests. "Ladies and gentlemen," said he, "let us sit down to dinner." But the company waited for the signal to rise which would be given when the host offered his arm to the lady whom he compli- mented by taking her in to dinner. The prince looked aroimd, and his eyes rested again on Gluck. "I beg of the Ritter Gluck," said he, graciously, "the honor of conducting him'to the table. " And with a courteous bow he offered his arm. " Favorite of the Muses, come with me, I am too true a worshipper of your nine lovely mistresses, to resign you to any one else. " Gluck, with a smile appreciative of the honor conferred upon him, took the arm of the prince, and was led into the dining- room. Behind them came the other guests. All wore discontented faces ; for this time the slight had been offered not only to dukes and am- bassadors, but to the ladies themselves, who could not help feeling bitterly this utter disregard of all etiquette and good- breeding. On the day after the dinner Kaunitz started for Innspruck to superintend the festivities preparing for the marriage of the Arch- duke Leopold. Count Durazzo, the director of the theatre, had pre- ceded the prince by a week. Noverre, with his ballet-dancers, was to follow. The great opera of " Orpheus and Eurydice, " whose fame was now European, was being rehearsed at Innspruck, for repre- sentation on the first night of the festival. Although Florian Gassman was a leader of acknowledged skill, Gluck, at the request of the emperor, had gone to Innspruck to direct and oversee the rehearsals. The furies had just concluded their chorus, and Gluck had given the signal for dismissal, when Prince Kaunitz entered the theatre, and came forward, offering his hand to the maestro. "Well, maestro," said he, "are you satisfied with your artistes ? Are we to have a great musical treat to-morrow?" Gluck shrugged his slioulders. "My singers are not the angels who taught me tliis music, but for mortals tliey sing well. I scarcely think that Donna Maria Louisa has ever heard any thing compara- ble to the music wliich is to welcome her to Innspruck. " "I am glad to hear it." said Kaunitz, witli his usual -composure, although he was inwardly annoyed at Gluck 's complacency. "But as I promised the empress to see and hear every thing nayself, I must hear and judge of your opera also. Be so good as to have it repeated." Gluck looked at the prince in amazement. AN UNFORTUNATE MEETING. 129 " What, " cried he, " your highness wishes them to go through the whole opera without an audience?" Prince Kaunitz raised his lofty head in displeasure, and said : "Ritter Gluck, quality has always been esteemed before quantity. I alone am an audience. Let the oi^era begin, the audience is here. " * Gluck did not answer immediately. He frowned and looked down. Suddenly he raised his head, and his face wore its usual expression of energy and power. "I will gratify your highness. I myself would like to hear the opera without participating in it. Ladies and gentlemen of the coulisses, be so kind as to return ! Gentlemen of the orchestra, re- sume your instruments ! Gassman, have the goodness to lead. Do your best. Let us have your highest interpretation of art — for you have an audience such as you may never have again. Prince Kaunitz and Ritter Gluck are your listeners !" CHAPTER XXX. AN UNFORTUNATE MEETING. Festival followed festival. The streets of the beautiful capital of Tyrol were gay with the multitudes who thronged to the marriage of the empress's second son. It was the second day after the wedding. On the first evening the opera of "Orpheus and Eurydice " had been triumphantly repre- sented before the elite of the city. A second representation had been called for by the delighted audience, although at the imperial palace a magnificent mask ball was to be given, for which two thou- sand invitations had been issued. It was a splendid confusion of lights, jewels, velvet, satins, and flowers. All the nations of the world had met in that imperial ballroom ; not only mortals, but fairies, sylphides, and heathen gods and goddesses. It was a be- v.aldering scene, that crowd of fantastic revellers, whose faces were every one hidden by velvet masks, through which dark eyes glit- tered, like stars upon the blackness of the night. The imperial family alone appeared without masks. Maria Theresa, in a dress of blue velvet, studded with golden embroidery, her fair white forehead encircled by a coronet of diamonds and sapphires, walked among her guests with enchanting smiles and gracious words. She leaned upon the arm of the King of Rome, who, looking more cheerful than usual, chatted gayly with his mother or with the crowd around them. Near them were the Grand Duke Leopold and his bride, so absorbed in one another that it was easy to see that they at least were happy in their affections. Be- hind them flocked the young archduchesses, who were enjoying the ball to the utmost. Whenever the empress approached a group of her guests, tlaey stood in respectful silence while she and her hand- some family passed by ; but as soon as she had left them, their admiration bui'st forth in every imaginable form of words. The empress, who overheard these murmured plaudits, smiled proudly upon her young daughters, who, even if they had been no arch- duchesses, would still have been the handsomest girls in Austria. *The pi-ince's own words. Swinburne, vol. i., page 362. 130 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. While the empress, in the full splendor of her rank and beauty, was representing the sovereign of Austria, the emperor, mingling with the guests, was taking the liberty of amusing himself as ordinary mortals love to do at a masked ball. On his arm hung a mask of most graceful figure, but so completely was she disguised that nothing could be ascertained with regard to her name or rank. Some whispered that it was the emperor's new favorite, the Countess of Auersberg. As the pair went by, the emperor overheard the conjectures of the crowd, and he turned with a smile to the lady who accompanied him. " Do not fear, " said he ; " there is no danger of your being recog- nized. You are mistaken for another lady. I promised you that you should meet Joseph here, and I will keep my promise. Let us trj' to make our way through the crowd, that we may join him as soon as possible ; for I feel oppressed this evening, I know not why." "Oh, then, your majesty, let me go back into the anteroom," said the veiled lady. " I begin to feel all the rashness of my under- taking, and although it has the sanction of your majesty and the empress, I feel like a criminal, every moment dreading discovery. Let us go back. " "No, no," replied the emperor, "let us remain until the inter- view with Joseph is over. I shall feel no better in the anteroom than here. I never shall be well until I leave this beautiful, fearful Tyrol. Its inountains weigh heavily upon my head and my brenst. But let us sit down awhile. I love to listen to the people's talk, when the court is not by. " " But while your majesty is present the court is here, " said the lady. "Not so, my dear," whispered the emperor; "the empress and my children are the court, I am but a private nobleman. Ah, there they come ! See how beautiful and stately the empress looks ! Who would suppose that this grown-up family were her children ! — But she, she signs us to approach. Take courage, and await me here. " So saying, the emperor hastened toward his wife, who received him with a loving smile of welcome. "Now, my son," said she, withdrawing her arm from Joseph, "I give you your freedom. I advise you to mix among the masks, and to go in searc-h of adventures. We have done enough for ceremony, I tliiuk we may now enjoy ourselves a little like the rest of man- kind. If we were younger, Franzel, we, too, would mix with yon- der crowd, and dance awhile. But I suppose we must leave that to our children, and betake ourselves to the card-table or to tlie opera- house. " "If your majesty leaves me the choice, "said the emperor, "I vote for the opera. " The empress took his .arm, while she tui'ned to the Countess Lerchenfeld, Jhe governess of the archducliesses. " To the dancing- room, countess, " said she; "the archducliesses may dance, but no masks must enter tlie room. Now, my dear husband, follow me. Adieu, Jo.se ph ! To-morrow I expect to hear what fortune has be- fallen you to-night. " "Your majesty forgets that Fortune is a woman," returned Joseph, smiling, "and you know that I have no luck with women." AN UNFORTUNATE MEETING. 131 " Or you will not have it, " said the empress, laughing, and leav- ing her son to his thoughts. " Or you will not have it, " repeated a soft voice near, and Joseph, turning, saw an elegant-looking woman, veiled and masked. "Fair mask," said he, smiling, "although you have tlie qualities of Ekiho, you have not j^et pined away to invisibility. " " Perhaps, sire, niy body is only the coffin of my heart, and my lieart the unfortunate Echo that has grieved herself to death and invisibility. But i^erhaps your majesty does not believe in the power of grief, for doubtless j^ou ai'e unacquainted with its pangs. " "And why should you imagine that I am unacquainted with grief?" asked Joseph. "Because your majesty's station is exalted above that of other men ; because God has blessed j'ou Avith a noble heart, that is worthy of your destiny — the destiny which gives you the power of making other mortals happy. " " How do you know all this?" "I see it," whispered she, "in your eyes — those eyes that reflect the blue of heaven. Oh, sire, may never a cloud darken that heaven !" "I thank you for your pious wish," replied the king sadly, "but if you are mortal, you know that in this world there are no such tilings as cloudless skies. Let us not speak of such serious matters ; give me your arm, and let us join in the mirth that is arovmd us. " "If your majesty will permit me, I will while away the hour by relating to you a sad story of life. " " Why a sad story, why not a merry one?" " Because I came here for no other object than to relate this sad story to yourself. I came to crave your majesty's sympathy and clemency in behalf of a suffering fellow-creature. " "Can I do any thing in the matter? " asked the king. " From your majesty alone do I hope for succor. " "Very well ; if so, let me hear the story. I will listen." "Sire, my mournful history will ill accord with the merriment of a ballroom. If you will condescend to go with me to one of the boxes in the gallery, I will there confide my secret to your ear, and there I hope to soften your heart. Oh, sire, do not tariy ; it is a case of life or death." " Well, " said Joseph, after a pause, " I will go. After all, I am about to have an adventure. " The riiask bowed, and nmde her way through the crowd to a side- door which opened upon the private staircase leading to the boxes. Joseph looked witli interest at the light and elegant form that pre- ceded him, and said to himself, " Truly an adventure ! I will follow it to the end." They were now in the galleries, from whence a beavitiful vie^v of the balh'oom was obtained. The lady entered a box, the king followed. The sound of the music, and the gay voices of the dan- cers, came with softened murmur to the ears of the king. He thought of the past ; but rousing himself to the exigencies of tlie present, he turned to the lady and said : " Now, fair mask, to your narrative." " Swear first to hear me to the end ! Swear it by the memory of Isabella, wlioni j'ou so passionately loved !" " Isabella !" cried Josej)h, turning pale. " You are very bold, 132 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. niadame, to call that name, and call it here ! But speak. By her loved memory I will listen. " She took his hand, and pressed it to her lips. Then she begged the king to be seated, and took her place by his side. " Sire, I wisli to relate to you the history of a woman whom God lias either blessed or cursed; a woman who, if she were not most unfortunate, wovild be the happiest of mortals." "You speak as the Sphinx did before the gates of Thebes. How can one be at the same time blessed and cursed?" " Sire, it is a blessing to be capable of loving with passion ; it is a curse to love, and not be loved in return. " " And a greater curse, " murmured Joseph, " to feign love and not to feel it. I have been a victim of such hjpocrisy, and never shall I outlive its bitter memories. " "Sire," began the lady, "the woman of whom I speak would willingly give a year of her life if the man she loves would but vouchsafe to lier thirsting heart one single glance of love. Think how wretched she must be, when even the appearance of love would satisfy her. But do not suppose, sire, that this woman is the victim of a guilty passion which she dare not own. She is a wife, and the man she adores, and who loves her not, is her husband. " "Why does he not love her?" asked Joseph quickly. " Because, " said the mask, in an agitated voice, " because she has sinned against him. On the day of her marriage, although he nobly invited her confidence, she hid from him a — a — malady. Oh, in mercy, do not go ! You mnst hear me. " cried she, almost frenzied, " you swore by the memory of Isabella to listen. " Josei^h resumed his seat, and said roughly, "Goon, then." " It was a crime, " continvied she in a voice of deepest emotion, " but she has paid dearly for her sin. Her husband repulsed her, but her heart was still his ; he despised her, and yet she adores him. Her malady has long since disappeared ; her heart alone is sick ; that heart which will break if her lord refuse to forgive her the offence that was born of her love for him ! But oh, sire, he has no pity. When she meets him with imploring looks, he turns away ; her letters he sends to her unopened. Oli, he is severe in his wrath ; it is like vengeance from Heaven I But still she loves, and still she hopes that one day he will be generous, and forgive her another crime — that of not being blessed with beauty. For months she has longed to tell him that she repents of her faults, that her punish- ment is just : but, oh ! oh ! she begs for mercy. She was forbidden to follow him to Innspruck, but .she could not stay behind. His parents gave their consent, and she is here at your knees, my lord and king, to pletid for mercy. Oh ! has there not been enough of cruelty? See me humbled at your feet; reach me your beloved hainl, and bid me sit by your side ! " She had sunk to the ground, and now tearing from her face the mask and veil, the King of Rome beheld the death-like countenance of his despised wife. Joseph rose from his seat and looked at her with inexorable hate. "Madame, " said he, "thanks to the name which you used to force me into compliance, I liave heard you out. I married you without allcction, and you had been my wife but a few short hours when you turned my indifference into undying hate. You come and whine to me for my love ; and you inform me that you are love- MOURNING. 133 sick on my account. If so, I dare say that Van Swieten, who cured you of leprosy, can also cure you of your unfortunate attachment. If you never knew it before, allow me to inform you that your love gives you no claim to inine ; and when a woman has the indelicacy to thrust herseK upon a man who has never sought her, she must expect to be despised and humbled to the dust. And now, madame, as I still Iiave the misfortune to be your husband, listen to my com- mands. You came here in spite of my prohibition ; as you pass in the world for my wife, you shall at least be obedient to my will. Go back this night to Vienna, and never again presume to entrap me into another interview like this !" Without vouchsafing a look at the fainting woman who lay at his feet, Joseph left the box, and descended to the ballroom. But what wail was that, which, coming from the imperial ban- queting-hall, hushed every sound of miisic and mirth, and drove the ga}- multitude in terror from the ballroom? The King of Rome was hastily making his waj^ through the ter- rified crowd, when he was met by one of his own officers. "I have been seeking your majesty," said he in a ti*embling voice. " The emperor — " "In Heaven's name, what of the emperor?" " He is very ill, your majesty. On leaving the theatre, he was struck down by apoplexy. " The king made no reply. He dashed on from room to room until he reached his father's sleeping-apartment. And there on the bed,' that white, motionless bod^^ ; that cold, insensible piece of clay ; that marble image without breath — was all that earth now lield of the Emperor Francis of Lorraine. He was dead, and his wish had been granted. He had gone for- ever from the " beautiful, fearful Tyrol ;" and its mountains lay no longer heavily on his breast. CHAPTER XXXI. MOURNING. The sound of rejoicings was hushed. The people of Innspruck had hastened to remove from the streets every symbol of festivity. The flowers and flags, the triumphal arches, and the wreathed arcades had disappeared. The epithalamium had been followed by the dirge. Night had set in— the first night of the emperor's death. The corpse still lay on the bed where its last breath had been drawn, and no one was with the deceased sovereign except two night- watchers, whose drowsy heads were buried in the arm-chairs wherein they sat. Death had banished ceremony. In the presence of their dead emperor, his attendants were seated and slept. lu the centre of the room stood the coffin that awaited the imperial remains ; for on the morrow the funeral ceremonies were to begin. But tlie empress had ordered that on this night all ceremony should be suspended. Deep silence reigned throughout Innspruck. The citizens, worn out with the excitement of the day, had all retired to I'est. Even the children of the deceased liad forgotten their sorrow in sleep. Maria Theresa alone sought no rest. 134 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. All that day she had been overwhelmed by grief ; even prayer seemed to bring no relief to her heart. But now she was tranquil, she had thrust back her tears ; and the empress-widow, all etiquette forgetting, was making her husband's shroud. As a woman, she grieved for the i^artner of her joys and soitows ; as a woman, she wished to pay the last sad honors to the only man whom she had ever loved. She whose hands were accustomed to the sceptre, now held a needle, and to all offers of assistance she made but one reply. " None of you are worthy to help me in this holy work, for none of you loved him. For you, he was the beneficent and honored sovereign ; but for me, he was the joy, the light, the air of my life. I, wlio loved liim, have alone the right to work upon his shroud. " "Oh, your majesty," cried the Countess Dauu, while her eyes filled with sympathizing tears, "would that the world could see with what devotion the great Maria Theresa sits in the stillness of the night, and with her own hands prepares her husband's sliroud !" The empress quickly raised her head, and, with something like her accustomed imperiousness, said : " I forbid any one of you to speak of what j'ou liave seen to-night. In the simplicity of my grief, I do what my heart urges me to do ; but let not my sorrow become the subject of the world's idle gossip. When the husband dies his wife, be she empress or beggar, is nothing but a sorrowing w^idow. Ah ! I am indeed beggared of all my wealth, for I have lost the dearest treasure I possessed on earth. All my joys will die with him." The empress's sobs choked her utterance; and burying her face in the shroud, she wept aloud. "In the name of Heaven, your majest>', do not let your tears fall upon the shroud !" cried the Countess Daun, while she tried wnth gentle force to wrest the cloth from the empress's hands. "I have heard it said that what is laid in the coffin bedewed with tears, draws after it to the grave the one who sheds them. " " Would it were true ! " exclaimed the empress, who had already resumed her work. "Would that my Francis could open his arms to receive me, that I might rest by his side from the cares of life ! Would that I were with him, wJio was my lover from earliest child- hood ; for cold and cheerless will be the life that is no longer lit up by his smile." Slie bent over her work, and nothing further was said ; but her ladies of honor gazed with tearful eyes uixm the high-born mourner, who, in lier long, black dress, was making a shroud for her lost husband. At last the task was completed, and she rose from her seat. With a sad smile she threw tlie shroud over her head, and it fell around her majestic form like a white veil. " My veil of eternal widowdiood !" said she. " Let me warm it with my love, tliat it may not lie too cold upon my darling's breast. Now, my friends, go and rest. Praj"^ for the emperor, and for his heart-broken wife." "Surely," said the Countess Daun, "your majesty will not send us away until we have attended to your wants. Let us remain ; we will watch by your l)edsi(le. " "No, countess, I will dispense with your services to-night. Charlotte von Hieronymus will stay with me. " MOURNING. 135 Turning to her beloved little tire- woman she said : "I want your attendance yet awhile, Charlotte ; you are to dress my hair to-night as becomes a widow. Good-night, ladies." The ladies of honor, with deep courtesies, left the room. As the door closed behind them, she said to Charlotte: "Now, Charlotte, dear child, you shall go with me on my last visit to the emperor. Take a pair of scissors, and come." " Scissors, your majesty '?" said Charlotte. "Yes, my dear, " replied she, as she advanced to her work-table from whence she took up a silver candelabrum, and signed to Char- lotte to follow. Wrapping the shroud close about her, the empress went forward through the long suite of magnificent but dark and empty rooms, that lay between her and her husband. Her tall white figure, en- veloped in the shroud, looked in the gloom of night like a ghost. The light which she carried, as it flashed across her face gave it a weird aspect ; and as the two wanderers went flitting by the large mirrors that here and there ornamented the rooms, they looked like a vision which had started up for a moment, then vanished into utter darkness. At last they came to a door which stood'ajar, through which a light was visible. "We are here," said the empress, leaning against the door for support. "Step lightly, Charlotte, and make no noise, for the em- peror sleeps. " There on the bed, with its yellow, sunken face, was the corpse that had been her husband — the only man she had ever loved. And that hideous black cofhn, which looked all the gloomier for the wax-lights that burned around it, was his laSt resting-place. Maria Theresa shuddered when she saw all this ; but her strong will came to her help, and she went steadily forward until she reached the night- watchers. She awoke them and said, "Go, wait in the next room until I call you." Charlotte was already on her knees, praying. The empress stood once more irresolute, then rushing forward with a cry she leaned over the body. Presently she laid her hand lovingly upon the staring eyes of the corpse, and looked long and tenderly at the face. " Shut your eyes, my Franz, " said she softly, " shut your eyes, for never have they looked so coldly upon me before. Do not forget me in heaven, my beloved ; but leave your heart with me ; mine has been with you for so many years ! First I loved you as a child — then as a maiden — and lastly, I loved you as a wife and the mother of your children. And I will ever love you, my own one. I was true as your wife, and I will be true as your widow. Farewell, my beloved, farewell !" She bent over and kissed the emijeror's mouth, and for a moment laid her head upon his cold, still bosom. Then again she drew her hand softly across his eyes, and tried to close them. A proud smile flitted over her wan face, for the eyes of the corpse closed. The loving hand of the wife had i^revailed where every other effort had failed. True to her wishes in death as in life, the dead emperor had shut his eyes to earth forever. "Come, Charlotte, come," cried the empress, almost joyfully, '' see how my emperor loves me ! He hears me still, and has granted 10 136 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. my last request. I will mourn no more, but will think of the day when I shall go to him again and share his home in heaven. Until then, my Franz, farewell !" She bent her head, and taking the shroud from her shoulders, she spread it carefully over the coffin, smoothing every MT-inkle with her hands, until it lay as perfect as the covering of a couch. "Call the valets, Charlotte," said she; and as they entered the room, she motioned them to advance. " Help me to lay the emperor on yonder bed, " said she. " Take the feet and body, and I will bear his head." With her strong arms, she raised him as a mother would move her sleeping child, and, with the helj) of the valets, she laid her husband in his coffin. This done, she again sent awaj' the attend- ants, and then wrapijed the body in the shroud as though she had been protecting it from the cold. " Come hither, Charlotte, " said she, " with your scissors. " Char- lotte approached noiselessly. "Cut off my hair," continued she, taking out her comb, and letting down the rich masses until it fell about her person like another shroud. " No, your majesty, no, " cried Charlotte, bursting into tears. " I never can cut off that magnificent hair. " "Good child," said the empress, "many a weary hour has that magnificent hair cost you, and do j'ou ask to have it spared ? It shall give you no more ti'ouble. Take the scissors and cut it off !" "Has your majesty then forgotten, "pleaded Charlotte, "how dearly the emperor loved this hair?" "No, Charlotte, and therefore he must have it. 'Tis the last love-token I have to give him. I cannot die with him like an Indian wife ; but religion does not forbid me to lay this offering at least in his coffin. He used so often to pass his hands through it — he was so proud of its beauty, that now he is gone, no one else shall see it. Say no more, Charlotte, but cut it off. " The empress bent her head, while Charlotte, with a heart-felt sigh and trembling hands, cut off the long and beautiful blond hair which Maria Theresa laid as a love- token in the coffin of her hus- band.* CHAPTER XXXII. THE IMPERIAL ABBESS. The funeral rites were over. In the crypt of the church of the Capuchins, under the monument which, twenty years before, the empress had built for lierself and Jier husband, lay the body of Em- peror Francis. In this vault slept all the imperial dead of the house of Hapsburg. One after another, with closed eyes and folded hands. their marble effigies were stretched across their tombs, stiff and oold as the bones that were buried beneath. The eternal night of deatli reigned over those couchant images of stone and bronze. But Maria Theresa and her emperor liad conquered death. Both rising from the tomb, their eyes were fixed ujwn each other with an expression of deepest tenderness ; while Azrael, who stood be- * Caroline Pichler, " Memoirs," vol. i., p. 28. THE IMPERIAL ABBESS. 137 hind with a wreath of cypress in his hands, seemed to have trans- formed himself into an angel of love that sanctified their union even beyond the tomb. All had left the vault save the widowed empress ; she had re- mained behind to weep and pray. Her prayers ended, she drew her long black cloak around her and strode through the church, unmind- ful of the monks, who, on either side of the aisle, awaited her appearance in respectful silence. She heeded neither their inclined heads nor their looks of sympathy ; stunned by grief, she was un- mindful of externals, and scarcely knew that she had left the vault, when her coach stopped before the imperial palace. Once there, Maria Theresa passed by the splendid apartments which she had inhabited during her husband's life, and ascending the staircase to the second stcrj' of the palace, she entered upon the dwelling which had been prepared for her widowhood. It was simple to coldness. Hung with black, nothing relieved the gloom of these rooms ; neither mirror, picture, gilding, nor flowers were there. The bedroom looked sad in the extreme. The walls were hung in gray silk ; gray velvet curtains were drawn in front of the small widow's bed ; the floor was covered with a gray carpet studded with white lilies, and the furniture was like the curtains, of dim, dull gray velvet.* As the empress entered this dismal room she saluted her ladies of honor who had followed her, and now stood awaiting her com- mands at the door. " Bring all my dresses, shawls, laces, and jewels to me in the reception-room, and send a messenger to Prince Kaunitz to say that I await his presence." The ladies of honor left the room silently, and the empress, closing the door, began again to weep and pray. Meanwhile her attendants were occupied bringing up the costly wardrobe of their imperial mistress. In a little while the dark rooms were brightened with velvet and silk of every color, with gold and silver, with jewels and flowers. The ladies looked with eager and admiring eyes at the magnifi- cence which had transformed this funereal apartment into a bazaar of elegance and luxury, scarcely daring to speak the hopes and wishes that were filling all their hearts. Suddenly their curious eyes sought the ground, for the empress appeared and entered the room. What a contrast between this pale figure, clad in simplest mourning, and the rich costumes which in the days of her happiness had heightened her beauty ; those days which seemed to lie so far, far away from the bitter present ! The empress laid her hand upon her heart, as if to stifle a cry of anguish ; then approaching the black marble table, she took up some of the dresses that lay upon it. With a voice softer and more pathetic than ever they had heard before, she begged the companions of her happier days to accept and wear these costly things as a legacy from the emperor. She then divided them as she thought best ; assigning to each lady what best became her and was most appropriate. Her ladies stood weeping around, while Maria Theresa besought each one to pardon the trouble she had given in her joyous days, for the sake of the misery she now endured. And as she entreated * Caroline Pichler, " Memoirs," vol. i., p. 30. 138 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. them to forget that she had been imperious and exacting, they knelt weeping at her feet, and earnestly implored her not to leave them. The empress sadly shook her head. " I am no longer an empress, " said she, "I am a poor, humbled woman, who needs no more attend- ance, whose only aim on earth is to serve God and die in His favor ! Pray for the emperor, dsar friends, and pray for me also. " Slowly turning away, she left the room and entered her cabinet, which opened into the gray bedroom. " And now to my last worldly task, " said she, as ringing a silver hand-bell slie bade a page conduct Prince Kaunitz to her presence. The page opened the door, and the prince came in. The empress greeted him with a silent bend of her head, and exhausted, sank into an ai-m -chair that stood before her writing- desk. Kaunitz, without awaiting permission, took a seat opposite. There was a long pause. At length Kaunitz said : " Your majestj^ has honored me by commanding my pi'esence hither." " Yes, I sent for you because I have something of great impor- tance to sa3^ " replied the emjiress. "I am all attention,'" replied the minister. "For it is worthy of your noble self so soon to stifle your grief and to attend to the duties of your crown. You have sent for me that we may work. And your majesty has done well, for much business has accumulated on our hands since we last held a cabinet council. " The empress shook her head. " Business no longer ti'oubles me, " replied she ; "I have sent for j'ou to say that we are no longer to work together. " " Does that mean that your majesty is about to dismiss me in disgrace? Are you no longer satisfied with your minister?" asked Kaunitz. " No, prince. It means that I myself must retire from the bustle and vanities of tliis world. My hands are no longer fit to wield a sceptre ; they must be folded in i^rayer — in prayer for my emperor, who was called . away without receiving the sacraments of the church. My strength is gone from me ; my crown oppresses me ; I can no longer be an empress. " "Were you made a sovereign by any power of yours?" asked Kaunitz. "Had yt)u the choice of becoming an empress or remain- ing an archduchess? What did your majesty say to me when the insolent Cliarles of Bavaria tried to wrest your imperial crown from your head? — 'I received my crown fiom the hands of God, and I must defend my divine riglit!' Floods of noble blood were spilled that i\Iaria Theresa might preserve her right ; and does she now intend to dim the glory of her crown by sacrificing it to her soiTOw as a wife?" " I am tired of life and of the world, and I intend to take refuge from tlieir troubles in a cloister. Say no more! I am resolved to go, and the palace at Innsjiruck sliaTl be my convent. There, on the spot where he died, will I make my vows ; and as an abbess will I sjiend my life praying tliat God may give him eternal rest. My vocation as a sovereign is at an end; I resign my sceptre to my son."* "That means that your majesty will destroy with your own hands the structure you had commenced ; that you have grown faint- hearted, and are unfaithful to your dutj' and to your sulajects." * Coxe, "History of the House of Austria," vol. v., page 188. THE IMPERIAL ABBESS. 139 "I will follow the steps of my great ancestor, Charles V.," cried the empress with energy. " I lay down my earthly dignity to hum- ble myself before God. " " And your majesty will be quite as unhappy as your ancestor. Do you suppose that the poor monk ever was able to forget that he had been a great prince?" " And yet Charles V. remained for several years in a cloister. " "But what a life, your majesty ! A life of regret, repentance, and despair. Believe me, it is far better like Csesar to die pierced by twenty daggers on the steps of a throne, than voluntarily to de- scend from that throne to enter the miserable walls of a cloister. " " Better perhaps for those who have not renounced the world and its pomps, " cried the empress, raising her beautiful eyes to heaven. " But it is neither satiety nor weariness of grandeur that has driven me to a cloister. It is my love for my emperor, my yearning to be alone with God and the past. " "But, your majesty," said Kaunitz with emphasis, "you will not be alone with the past ; the maledictions of your people will follow you Will they hold you guiltless to have broken your faith with them?" " I shall not have bi'oken my faith ; I shall have left to my people a successor to whom sooner or later they will owe the same allegiance as they now owe me. " " But a successor who will overturn all that his mother has done for Austria's welfare. Your majesty laid the foundations of Aus- tria's greatness. To that end you called me to the lofty station which I now occupy. Remember that together we pledged our lives and love to Austria. Be not untrue to the covenant. In the name of that people which I then represented, I claim from their emj)eror, Maria Theresa, the strict fulfilment of her bond. I call upon her to be true to her duty as the ruler of a great nation, until the hand of God releases her from her crown and her life. " While Kaunitz spoke, Maria Theresa walked up and down the room with troubled brow and folded arms. As he ceased, she came and stood before him, looking earnestly into his face, w^hich now had cast aside its mask of tranquillity, and showed visible signs of agitation. "You are a bold advocate of my people's claims," said she; "a brave defender of my Austria. I rejoice to know it, and never will take umbrage at what you have so nobly spoken. But you have not convinced me ; my sorrow speaks louder than your arguments. You have termed me 'your emperor. ' I know why you have once more called me by that flattering title. You wish to remind me that in mounting the throne of my ancestors I lost the right to grieve as a woman, and pledged mj^self to gird on the armor of manhood. Hitherto I have made it my pride to plan, to reign, to fight like a man. I have always feared that men might say of me that my hand was too weak to grasp the reins of power. But God, who perhaps gave me the head of a man while leaving me the heart of a woman, has punished me for my ambition. He has left me to learn that, alas ! I am but a woman — with all the weakness of my sex. It is that womanly heart which, throbbing with an anguish that no words can paint, has vanquished my head ; and loud above all thoughts of my duty as an empress is the wail of my sorrow as a widow ! But I will show you, Kaunitz, that I am not stubborn. I 140 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. shall communicate my intentions to no one. For four weeks I will retire to my cloister. Instead of naming Joseph my successor, I will appoint him co-regent. If, after four weeks of probation, I still feel that I can without guilt retire from the world, shall I then be absolved from my oath, and suffered to lay down my crown without reproach from my faithful minister?" •'If, after four weeks of unlimited power delegated to the Em- peror Joseph, your majesty still thinks that you have a right to abdicate," replied Kaunitz, "I shall make no opposition to your majesty's choice of a private vocation, for I shall feel that after that time remonstrance with you would be useless. " "Well, then, my novitiate shall begin to-morrow. Apprise the court and the foreign representatives that I wish to meet them in the throne-room, where in their presence I will appoint my son emperor co-regent. " CHAPTER XXXIII. THE CO -REGENT. Maria Theresa had kept her word. She had appointed her son co-regent, investing the young emperor with full power to reign, to make laws, to punish, to reward, and to govern her people, while she retired to the palace of Innspruck. There she dwelt in strictest privacy, scarcely seeing her children, and restricting her intercourse to the first lady of honor, her confessor, and a few chosen friends, whom she sometimes admitted to her mournful rooms. Joseph, the young emperor of four-and-twenty years, was now monarch of all Austria, Hungary, Lombardy, and the Netherlands. He had reached the goal of his longings for power, and now he could begin to think about tlie happiness of his people. Since the intoxicating moment when Maria Theresa, in the presence of the whole court, had named him co-regent, and delivered over to his hands her vast empire, Joseph felt as if he had suddenly been transported to a world of enchantment. He had, together with her ministers, dissuaded the empress from her resolution of retiring to Innspruck ; but even as he joined his voice to theirs, his heart was trembling with fear lest she should yield. He felt that if she revoked the power she had conferred, he would almost die with disappointment. But the empress remained firm, and her son was triumpliant. She had gone from the throne to the solitude of her own apart- ments, and left him lord and emperor of Austria ! He would no longer be obliged to conceal his thoughts ; they should come out into the broad day as deeds, for he was sovereign there ! A dav and night liad passed by since his mother had renounced her riglits to him. He could not sleep. His head was full of plans, his heart of emotion. He dared not sleep — he who was the guardian of millions of his fellow-beings— he who felt ready to shed his heart's blood for their good. On the first dav, Joseph had been in council with the ministers of state. Tlie will of the doceased emiieror had been opened, and his son now learned, that while his mother was conferring upon him THE CO-REGENT. 141 power, his father had left him boundless wealth. The Emperor Francis had left his eldest son sole heir to his estates in Hungary and Galicia, to his jewels and treasures, and also to the millions of money which he had accumulated through manufactures and trade. He had also left to his eldest son the twenty -two millons of coupons which he had taken for the gold which he had advanced to the state for the prosecution of the Seven Years' War. Joseph was therefore the richest prince in all Germany, for his father's vast estates amounted to one hundred and fifty-nine millions of guilders.* But he who had been so intoxicated with joy at his mother's gift, seemed scarcely moved at all as he received the tidings of his vast inheritance. " I wish that my father had bought all the coupons that were issued, and that they were all mine, " said he, with a sigh. " Your majesty would be no gainer thereby, " replied the lord keeper of the finances, Von Kinsky. " These coujjons bear but little interest, and paper money is not gold. Its value is nominal." "But it has one merit," replied the emperor, smiling; "it can be burned. Oh, what a miserable invention is this paper money, which represents value, but possesses none ! Suppose that all the holders of these coupons were to come in this morning and ask for their redemption, could the imperial coffers meet their obligations?" " Not if they all came at once, your majesty. " " But the people have a right to call for them, " said the emperor. "In lending their money, they showed their confidence in the gov- ernment, and this confidence must not be betrayed. Let the twenty- two millions of coupons be put in a package and brought to my private apartments. I wish to dispose of them. " Throughout this day Joseph was so absorbed by business, both private and official, that he had no opportunity of exhibiting him- self in his new character, either to his family or his subjects. But, on the second day of his co-regency, the young emperor appeared in public. On this day, the Viennese celebrated the de- liverance of Vienna from the Turks by John Sobieski and his brave Polish legions. The mourning of the female members of the im- perial family did not permit them to mingle as usual with the people on this favorite festival ; but the emperor resolved to show himself on this occasion in the character of a sovereign. All Vienna was eager to see him as soon as it became rumored that he would cer- tainly attend the mass in honor of the day at the cathedral of St. Stephen. Meanwhile, the young emperor was in his palace. The ante- rooms were filled with petitioners of every sort, who, through bribes offered to the members of the imperial household, had penetrated thus far, and were now awaiting the appearance of the emperor. The anterooms of Maria Theresa had always been thronged with these petitioners, and now they jostled each other without ceremony, each one hoping to be remarked by the emperor as he passed on to his carriage. Suddenly the commotion ceased and took the form of a panic as the door opened and the valets of the emperor came forward, their hands filled with the petitions which they had just taken in. They had all been refused ! A few moments afterward the door opened again, and the lord * Hubner, " Life of Joseph II.," vol. i., page 38. 142 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. chamberlain, Count Rosenberg, advanced to the centre of the room. There was no necessity for the pages to order silence, for the crowd were breathless with expectation, and the deepest stillness reigned throughout the thronged rooms while Count Rosenberg read the first greeting of the emperor to his people. It was sharp, and to the pointj> It forbade, in strongest terms, all indirect efforts to obtain promotion or pensions ; and it declared once for all that merit alone would be the test of all applications presented to the Emperor Josejih II. When the count had done reading the proclamation, the valets laid the petitions upon a table, that each man might select and remove his own paper. "Your majesty has made some enemies to-day," said Count Rosenberg, as he reentered the cabinet of the emperor. "I saw many a scowl in the anteroom as I passed by the disappointed mul- titude that thronged my way. " " I do not wish the friendship of intriguers and flatterers, " replied the emperor with a merry laugh. "If my proclamations make me enemies, I think they will also make me friends. The good shall be satisfied with my rule; for, during my mother's reign, I have observed much and thought much. And now the day has come when the power is mine to reward virtue and punish vice. " "May Heaven grant that your majesty's day draw to a close without clouds or storms !" said Rosenberg. The emperor laughed again. "What do you fear, my friend?" asked he. "Have you so long shared with me nay burden of dis- simulation, that you are frightened to see our shackles fall? Are you afraid of the fresh air, because we wear our masks no longer? Patience, Rosenberg, and all will be well with us. Our dreams are about to be fulfilled : what we have whispered together in the twi- light of mutual trust, we may now cry out with free and joyous shouts — 'Reform! reform!' My people have prayed quite enough, they shall now learn to do something better — they shall think ; they have been long enough led by faith, like little children. I will give them confirmation, and they shall enter upon the responsibilities of manhood. I mean to be a blessing to the virtuous, and a terror to the vicious. " " Unhappily, there is more evil than good in this world, " said Count Rosenberg, sighing, "and a man, though he can seldom count his friends, is never at a loss to count his enemies. " "I do not understand you," said Josepli, smiling. "I intend to draw out the fangs of the wicked, so that they shall have power to injure no one. " " Your majesty will do this if time be granted you, " said the count. "If—" "What do you mean?" cried the emperor, impatiently, as Rosen- berg hesitated. "Speak on. What do you fear?" "I fear," whispered the count, "that your day Avill be darkened by bigots and priests. I fear that the empress will not leave you freedom to carry out your reformation. I fear that your enemies will dry up her tears, and unclasp lier folded hands, to force within their grasp the sceptre to which your niaiiliood gives you exclusive right. I fear the influence of her confessor. Father Porhammer ; try to conciliate him. It is far better to win over our opponents by forbearance, than to exasperate them by open warfare. " THE CO-REGENT. 143 " But open warfare is my right, " cried Joseph, " and I am power- ful enough to despise all opponents, as well as strong enough to pursue my way without regard to the wickedness of all the bigots in Christendom. Face to face shall we stand, and I defy them all ! We have had enough, too, of Spanish etiquette and Italian mum- mery here. Now we shall have honest German customs ; we shall be Germans in thought, in speech, and in sentiment. This is my dream, my bright and beautiful dream ! Austria shall one day be Germanized ; the kingdoms and provinces which compose my do- minions shall no longer be separate nationalities, but all shall be the branches of one lofty tree. The limbs shall lose their names, and be called by that of the trunk ; and tlie trunk shall bear the name of Germany. High above the boughs of this noble tree, which shall extend from France to Poland, I will place my banner and my crown, and before their might all Europe shall bow. This is my dream, Rosenberg, my dream of future greatness !" " While I listen and look upon your majesty's countenance, bright with inspiration, I, too, bow before the grandeiu- of your thought, and feel as if this godlike dream must surely become a glorious truth. " " It shall be glorious truth, Rosenberg, " exclaimed the emperor. "Why should Germany be severed into many parts, when France and Spain are each a kingdom in itself? Why is England so power- ful? Because Scotland and Ireland have lost their identity in hers. Sweden and Norway, are they not, or rather ought they not to be, one? And Russia, how many different races own the sway of the mighty Czar? My empire, too, shall become strong through unitj^, and I shall be not only emperor of Austria, but, in veiy deed and truth, emperor of all Germany !" Rosenberg shook his head, and sighed. "Ah, your majesty," said he, "you are so young that you believe in the realization of mortal dreams. " " I do, and I intend to work out their realization myself. I shall begin by being German myself. I intend to do away with ceremonj-, priestcraft, and foreign influence. To that intent, my lord cham- berlain, you will see that all foreigners are dismissed from the palace, and their places supplied by Germans. My two Italian valets I make over to Porhammer. Nothing but German shall be spoken at court. I will have neither Fi'ench nor Italian actors here. Count Durazzo shall dismiss his foreign troupes and employ Ger- mans in their stead.* Let him see that the German stage flourishes and does honor to the metropolis of the German empire. " "This is an ordinance that will enchant the youths of Vienna," replied the count, gayly. " Here is another which will equally rejoice their hearts as well as those of all the pretty women in Vienna, " added the emperor. "Your majesty means to revoke the power of the committee on morals ?" " Not quite. I dare not fly so soon in the face of mj' lady- mother's pet institutions, " returned Joseph, laughing; "but I shall suspend them until further notice. Now the pretty sinners may all go to sleep in peace. Now the young girls of Vienna may walk the streets M-ithout being asked whither they go, or whence they come. Reform ! reform ! But hark ! there are the church-bells ; I go to exhibit myself to my subjects. Come, let us away. " * Gross-Hofftnger, " Histoiy of Joseph 11.,'' vol. i., p. 91. 144 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. " But your majesty has not made your toilet. The valets are now waiting with your Spanish coui-t-dress in your dressing-room." " I make them a present of it, " said the emperor. " The day of Spanish court-dresses is over. The uniform of my reigment shall be my court-dress hereafter, so that you see I am dressed and ready. " " Then allow me to order that the carriage of state be prepared for your majesty. " "Oi'der that the carriage of state be left to rot in the empress's stables, " returned Joseph. "The day of etiquette, also, is over. I am a man like other men, and have as much use of my limbs as they. Let cripples and dotards ride — I shall go to church on foot. " "But your majesty," remonstrated Rosenberg, "what will the people say when they see their emperor stripped of all the pomp of his high station? They will think that you hold them too cheaply to visit them in state." " No, no. My people will feel that I come among them, not with the cold splendor of my rank, but with the warmth of hiiman sj'm- pathy and human nature, and they will greet me with more enthu- siasm than if I came in my carriage of state." The emperor was right. The people who had thronged every street through which he was to pass, shouted for joy, when they saw the ruler of all Austria on foot, accompanied by a few of his friends, making his way among them with as much simplicity as a burgher. At first astonishment had repressed the enthusiasm of the Vien- nese, but this momentary reticence overcome, the subjects of Joseph the Second rent the air with their cries of welcome, and pressed around his path, all eager to look into the face of the sovereign who walked among his people as an equal and a man. "See him ! see him !" cried they. "See the German prince who. is not ashamed to be a German ! See our emperor in the uniform of the German infantry ! Long live the emperor ! Long live our fatherland ! Long live the emperor !" shouted the multitude, while Joseph, his heart overflowing with joy, made his way at last to the cathedral of St. Stephen. And now the trumpets sounded, and the might}' organ thundered forth a welcome, while cardinals and priests lifted their voices, and the clergy sang the '■'' Sahnnn fac imperatomm nostmvi. " And ever and anon, through the open windows of the cathedral, the people shouted, " Long live the emperor ! Long live our father- land !" Overcome by the ovation, Joseph sank down upon his knees, and his heart softened by the scene, the circumstances, and the sublime chants of the church, he prayed. Clasping his hands, lie prayed that God might give him strength to do his duty to his subjects, and to make them happy. The '^ Salviim fac imperatorumi''' over, the mass for the repose of the soul of Sobieski and his twelve thousand Poles was intoned. The emperor prayed for them, and thanked the Almightj- Ruler of all things for the rescue they had brought to Vienna in her hour of danger from the infidel. This was the first public act of Joseph's reign as co-regent. The mass over, the people witnessed another public act of the young emperor's reign. While Joseph, smiling and bending his head to tlie crowds that pressed aroiuid him, was quietly pursuing his way back to the palace, a procession was seen coming through HAROUN AL RASCHID. 145 the streets which attracted the attention of the multitude, and called forth their wonder. First came a file of soldiers, with shouldered carbines, then an open vehicle drawn by horses from the imperial stables, then another file of soldiers. Within the wagons sat several officers of the em- peror's household, with large rolls of paper in their hands, and be- hind it was a detachment of cavalry with drawn sabres. "What means this pageant?" asked the people of one another. For all answer to this question, the multitudes pressed forward and fell in with the mysterious procession. The train moved on, until it arrived at an open market-place, where it halted. In the centre of the square was a heap of fagots, near which stood two men with lighted torches in their hands. "An execution!" cried the terror-stricken multitude. "But what an execution ! Who was to be burnt at the stake?" While the crowd were murmuring within themselves, the oflScers of the emperor's household advanced to the pile, and laid the rolls of papers which they had brought, upon it. They then signed to the people for silence, and one of the officers addressed the crowd. " The Emperor Joseph, co- regent with the Empress Maria Theresa, sends greeting to his subjects," cried he in a clear, loud voice. "To-day, the first of his reign, and the festival of John Sobieski the deliverer of Vienna, he wishes to prove to his people how much he loves them. In testimony whereof, he presents to tliem twentj"-two millions of coupons, bequeathed to him by his father the late Em- peror Francis. These papers are the coupons. In the name of the Emperor Joseph approach, ye torch -bearers, and kindle the pile, that the people of Austria, made richer by twenty-two millions, may recognize, in this sacrifice, the love of their sovereign. " The torches were applied, and high in the air soared the flames that were consuming the emperor's bequest, while the faces of the multitude around were lit up by the glare of the burning pile. The bells of the churches began to chime, the flames soared higher and higher, and the people looked on in wondering gratitude at the twenty-two millions of consuming guilders, which were the first offering of Joseph II. to his subjects.* CHAPTER XXXIV. HAROUN AL RASCHID. The emperor was alone in his dressing-cabinet. He stood before a mirror, covering his rich blond curls with a large wig, which fell in long ringlets over his shoulders, and completed the very singular costume in which it had pleased his majesty to array himself. The emperor surveyed himself with evident satisfaction, and broke out into a hearty laugh. "I think, " said he, "that in this dark-haired fop, with his fashionable costume, no one will recog- nize the emperor. I suppose that in this disguise I may go unde- tected in search of adventures. If I am to be of use as a prince, I must see all things, prove all thiugs, and learn all things. It is written, 'Prove all things, and hold fast to that which is good.' I *Hormayer, "Austrian Plutarch," vol. i., p. 129. 146 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. am afraid that I shall not hold fast to much that comes under my obsei'vation. " He drew back from the mirror, threw over his shoulders a little cloak, bordered with fur, set a three-cornered hat upon the top of his wig, took up a small gold-headed cane, and then returned to survey himself a second time. " A fop of the latest style — that is to say, a fool of the first water — looks out upon liimself from this looking-glass, " said he, laughing. " It would be an aiiront to my majesty if any one were to presume to suspect the emperor under this absurd disguise. I hope I shall be as successful in the way of adventures as was my predecessor Haroun al Raschid. " He drew his cloak close around him, and stepped from a little private door that opened from his dressing-room into the corridor which led to the apartments of his wife. Retired and unobserved, the Empress Josepha lived within these rooms, which, from the first night of their marriage, her husband had never reentered. The corridor was empty. Joseph could therefore pass out unobserved, until he reached a private staircase leading to the lower floor of the palace. Once there, he raised his head, and stepped boldly out into the hall. The porters allowed him to pass without suspicion, and, unrecognized, the young adventurer reached the public thorough- fares. "Now," thought he, with a sensation of childish delight, "now I am free, a man just like other men. I defy any one to see my divine right upon my brow, or to observe any difference between the ' im- perial blue' of my eyes, and the ordinary blue of those of my subjects. " "Halt, there!" cried a threatening voice to the careless pedes- ti-ian. " Out of the way, young coxcomb ; do you svippose that I must give way to you?" " Not at all, your worship, " replied Joseph, smiling, as with an active bound he cleared the way for a colossal carman, who, covered with sweat and dust, was wheeling a load of bricks in a baiTow. The carman stopped, and surveying the emperor angrily, cried out in a voice of thunder, "What do you mean by calling me 'your worship?' Do you mean to insult me because you are wasting your fatlier's money on your pretty person, decked out like a flower-girl on a holiday?" "Heaven forbid that I should seek to insult you!" replied the emperor. "The size of your fists is enough to inspire any one with respect. For all the world I would not offend their owner. " "Well, then, go your way, you whippersnapper, " muttered the carman, while the emperor congratulated himself upon having gotten out of the scrape without detection. "It would have been a prettty anecdote for the histoiy of the Emperor Joseph, had lie been discovered in a street brawl with a carman," said he to himself. "A little more, and my imperial face would have been pounded into jelly by that Hercules of a fellow ! It is not sucli an easy matter as I liad supposed, to mix on e(iual terms with other men ! But I shall learn by bitter experience how to behave. " At this moment Joseph heard the sounds of weeping. Turning, he beheld coming toward him a young girl of about sixteen, whose slight ligure, in s^nte of the cool autunm day, was scarcely covered HAROUN AL RASCHID. 147 by a thin, patched dress of dark stuff. An old, faded silk handker- chief was thrown over her shoulders ; her sweet, pale face was be- dewed with tears, and her lips were murmuring gentle complaints, though no one stopped to listen. On her right arm she carried a bundle, which every now and then she watched, as if afraid that some one might rob her of its treasures. Suddenly a kind voice whispered, "Why do you weep, my child?" The young girl started and met the gaze of a young man, whose blue eyes were fixed upon her with an expression of tenderest sym- pathy. " I weep, " said she, " because 1 am unhappy, " and she quickened her steps that she might leave him behind. But the emperor kept pace with her. "Why do you walk so fast? are you afraid of me?" "I fear the committee of morals," said she, blushing. "If they should see me with you, I might be mistaken for — " " Have you ever been suspected by them ?" "Yes, sir, although I have always tried, when I was in the streets, to avoid observation. Go, sir, go. Do not heed my tears. I am accustomed to misfortune." "But it is said that the emperor has suspended the office of that committee. " "I am glad of it," replied the girl, "for good and evil are alike exposed to susijicion ; and I would like to walk the streets without fear of being taken for what I am not. " "Where are you going, child?" " I am going, " replied she, ^\'ith a fresh burst of tears, " to sell the clothes I carry in this bundle. " "What clothes, child?" " The last decent covering that my poor mother owns, " sobbed the girl. "You are, then, very poor?" asked the emperor, softly. "Very poor. We are often hungry, and have no food but our own bitter tears. These are the last clothes we have, but they must go for bread, and then perhaps we shall perish of cold. " " Poor girl ! have you no father?" "My father died in defence of Austria and the empress, and as a reward of his devotion to his sovereign, his wife and child have been left to die of want." "Your father was a soldier?" asked the emperor, much affected^ "He was an officer, who sei'ved with distinction in the Seven Years' War. But he never was promoted. He died for Maria Theresa, and his widow and child will soon follow him to the grave. " "Why have you never applied to the empress for relief? Her purse is always open to the wants of the needy. " "To obtain any thing from royalty, sir, you know that one must have influence, " replied the girl, bitterly. " We have no influence, nor would we know how to intrigue for favor. " "Why, then, do you not go to the emperor? He at least has no fancy for intriguers and flatterers. You should have gone to him." "To be haughtily repulsed?" said she. "Oh, sir, the new em- peror is a man whose only love is a love of power, and whose only pleasure is to make that power felt by others. Has he not already refused to listen to any petition whatever? Did he not forbid his people to come to him for favors?" 148 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. "He did that," replied Joseph, "because he wished to do justice to all ; and for that reason he has done away with all presentation of petitions through courtiers or other officers of his household. But he has appointed an hour to receive all those who present their petitions in person." " So he has said, " returned the girl, " but no one believes him. His guards will turn away all who are not richly dressed, and so the emperor will have promised to see the people, though the people will never be allowed to come into his presence. " " Have the Austrians so little faith in the sincerity of the em- peror?" asked Joseph. " Do they think that his heart — " "His heart!" exclaimed the girl. "The emperor is without a heart. Even toward his mother he is said to be undutiful and ob- stinate. He hates his wife, and she is as mild as an angel. He whose pleasure it is to see an empress at his feet, do you suppose that he can sympathize with the misfortunes of his subjects? No, no ; he has already stopped all pensions which the generous empress had given from her private purse. " " Because he intends to bestow them upon worthier objects. " " No, no ; it is because he is a miser. " "He a miser!" cried Josejjh. "Did he not some days ago burn up twenty-two naillions of coupons?" " It was said so ; but no one saw them ; and it is whispered that the twenty-two millions were nothing but pieces of waste paper. " The emperor was speechless. He looked at this young traducer with an expression of real horror. " How !" at length said he, in a voice choked by emotion, " the emperor is suspected of such baseness !" "He is known to be selfish and miserly, " replied his tormentor. Joseph's eyes flashed with anger ; but conquering his bitterness, he constrained himself to smile. "My child," said he, "you have been deceived. If you knew the emperor, you would find that he is generous and ready to do justice to all men. Go home and write your petition ; and come to-day at noon to the imperial palace. The guards will allow you to pass, and a servant will be there to conduct you to me. I, myself, will present your petition, and I know that the emperor will not refuse a pension to the widow and child of a brave Austrian officer. " The girl's eyes filled with tears, as she attempted to thank her unknown benefactor. But the emperor, who had allowed her to abuse him without interruption, would not listen to her praises. " Your mother is sick, and needs care, " said he. " Go home, and do not sell your clothes, for you will need them to visit the emperor. How much did you expect to get for them?" " I expected seven ducats, for a portion of this clothing is my mother's wedding-dress." "Then, my child, let me beg you to accept twelve," said he, drawing out his purse. "I hope they will suffice for your wants imtil the emperor fills them all." The young girl bent over and kissed Joseph's hand. "Oh, sir," said she, "you save us from deatli, and we have nothing to offer in return but our poor prayers. " " Pray for the emperor, " said he, gently. " Pray God that he THE DISGUISE REMOVED. 149 may win the love of his people. Farewell ! I shall wait for you to- day, at noon." With these words, Joseph quickened his pace, and was soon lost to view. " My second adventure, " thought he. " I must confess that it is not very flattering to walk incognito about the streets and hear the sentiments of one's own subjects. How often do kings mistake the murmurings of discontent for the outpourings of joy ! It is so pleasant to believe in the love of our subjects, and to shut our eyes to all doubts of their loyalty ! But I am resolved to see and judge of the people for myself. My path will often be beset with thorns, but Fate has not made me a monarch for my own good ; I am an emperor for the good of others. That child has revealed some pain- ful trutlis to me ; it would seem as if I were fated forever to be misjudged. " CHAPTER XXXV. THE DISGUISE REMOVED. At mid-day the emperor reentered the palace gates. This time he came through the principal entrance, feeling quite secure in his disguise. He proceeded at once to the hall of reception, wondering whether his young protegee would present herself as he had requested her to do. The sentries allowed him to pass, supposing him to be one of those about to seek an audience with the emperor. Unsuspected he reached the hall. Yes, there was his little accuser. She stood trembling and blush- ing in one corner of the room, holding in her hand a paper. As she recognized her unknown protector, she hastened to meet him, and timidly gave him her hand. "Oh, sir," said she, "you have been true to your word. I was so afraid you would forget me, that I was several times on tlie point of leaving this grand place. I feel lonely and asliamed ; for you see that no one is here but myself. Nobody trusts the emperor. And I, who am here, will surely be repulsed ; he never will be as kind as 3^ou have been to a poor, friendless girl. My mother has no hope ; and if she has sent me to the palace, it was that I might see you again, and once more pour forth my gratitude for your kindness. If you would add another to the generous gift you have already be- stowed, tell me your name, that my mother and I may beg God's blessing upon it, and then let me go, for I feel tliat my visit here will be vain !" "My dear child," said Joseph, laughing, "if all the emperor's opponents were as headstrong as you, the poor man would have but little hope of ever gaining the good-will of his subjects. But I in- tend to prove to you that you are unjust. Give me your petition. I myself will present it for you. Wait awhile, until I send a mes- senger who will conduct you to the emperor. Follow him and fear nothing, for I shall be there, too, and there I will tell you my name. Au revoir. " The young girl looked anxiously after him as he disappeared. 150 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. and once more betook herself to the window. Gradually the room tilled with a sad, humble, and trembling crowd, such as often throngs the anterooms of princes and nobles — a crowd which, with tearful eyes and sorrowing hearts, so often returns home without succor and without hope. But the people who were assembled in this hall of reception seemed more sanguine than is usual with petitioners for imperial favor. They cliatted together of their various expectations ; they .spoke of the emperor's benevolence; and all seemed to hope that tliey would be heard with patience, and favorably answered. A door opened, and an officer entered. He looked sharply around the room, and then went directly to the window, where the young girl, with a beating heart, was listening to the praises of that em- peror whom in her soul slie believed to be a tyrant. " The emperor will be here presently, " said the officer, in answer to a storm of inquiries from every side. " But I have been ordered first to conduct tliis young lady, the daughter of a deceased ofiicer, to his majesty's presence. " She followed him, silent and anxious. They went through suites of splendid rooms, whose costly decorations struck the child of poverty with new dismay. At last they stopped in a richly gilded saloon, covered with a carpet of Gobelin, and hung with the same rich tapestry. " Remain here, " said the officer, " while I announce you to his majesty. " He disappeared behind the velvet portiere, and the frightened girl remained with a crowd of richly-dressed nobles, whose embroi- dered court- dresses and diamond crosses, almost blinded her with their splendor. Once more the portiere was drawn aside, and the officer beckoned the girl to advance. She did so with trembling limbs and throbbing heart. The hangings fell, and she was in the dread presence of the emperor. He stood near a window with his back toward her — a tall, graceful man, in a white uniform. The poor girl felt as if she would cease to breathe, for this was the decisive moment of her young life. The emperor could either consign her to misery, or raise her to comfort, and wipe away the tears of her dear, suffering mother. He turned and looked at her with a benevolent smile. "Come hither, my child," said he. "You would speak Avith the emperor. I am he." The girl uttered a stifled ciy, and falling on her knees, she hid her death-like face in her hands. For sh(> had recognized her un- known protector. Yes, this noble man, wlio liad proffered help and promised protection, this was the emperor, and to his face she had called liim miser and tyrant! She never for one moment tliought whether he would punish her insolence ; she had b\it one feeling, thnt of unspeakable anguish for having wounded a noble and generous heart. This alone caused her shame and grief. Tlie emperor approached, and looked with tenderness at the kneeling maiden, through whose fingers lier tears were flowing m strennis. i i\ "I have read your petition, and liave found that you spoke tne truth. From this day your father's pay falls to your mother; and ROSARY AND SCEPTRE. 151 at her death it shall revert to 5'ou. I beg you both to forgive the tardiness of this act of justice ; for neither the empress nor I liad ever heard that your father had any family. Once more forgive us for all that you have endured since his death. And now, my child, rise from your knees ; for human beings should kneel before God alone. Dry your teai-s, and hasten to your mother. Tell her that the emperor is not as heartless as he has been pictured to her by his enemies." " No, no, " cried she, " I cannot rise until my sovereign has for- given my presumption and my calumnies." " They are forgiven ; for what could you know of me, you poor child, but what you had been told? But now you know me your- self ; and for the future if you hear me traduced, you will defend me, will you not?"* He reached out his hand, which she kissed and bedewed with her tears. The empex-or raised her tenderly. "Be comforted; for if you cry so bitterly my courtiers will think that I have been unkind to you. You told me just now that you wished to know the name of your protector that you might pray for him. Well, my child, pray for me — my name is Joseph. " CHAPTER XXXVI. ROSARY AND SCEPTRE. The four weeks to which Maria Theresa had limited her novitiate had almost expired. She still secluded herself from the world, and, in the deep retirement of her palatial cloister, would suffer no men- tion of worldly affairs in her presence. In vain her confessor and her attendants strove to awaken her interest to the dissatisfaction of the people with the wild projects of reform that threatened the subversion of all social order. From the day of her retirement, Maria Theresa had forbidden the slightest allusion to politics. Her confesser had on one occasion ventured a hint on the subject of the changes which were being made by the emperor, but the empress had tvu-ned her flashing eyes upon him, and had reminded him that, as the servant of the Lord, he was there to exhort and to pray, not to concern himself about the triv- ialities of this world. On another occasion the Covmtess Fuchs had presumed to mention the changes in the imjierial household. The empress interrupted her coldly, saying that if she had not lost her relish for the vanities of the court, the countess must absent herself until further orders. This severity had put an end to all plans for inducing the em- press to resume the cares of empire. She was now at liberty to weep and pray without distraction. Even her children, who came daily to kiss her hand, were allowed no conversation but that which turned upon religion. When the morning services were ended, they .silently withdrew to their rooms. For a few days past, the Archduchess Christina had absented herself from this mournful levee. On the first day of her non- appearance the empress had not appeared to remark her absence. .J ^ * Historical. 152 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. But on the second day her eyes wandered sadly from her prayer- book to her children, and her lips seemed ready to frame some ques- tion. Instead of speaking, she bent her head over her rosary, and strove to pray with more devotion than usual. Finally came a third day, and still Christina was absent. The empress could no longer master her maternal anxiety, and as the Archduchess Elizabeth approached to kiss her hand, she spoke. "Where is Christina? Why is she not with you?" "My sister is sick, your majesty," replied the archduchess. And as though she feared to displease her mother by further speech, she bent her head and withdrew. The next day when the imperial children entered their mother's apartment, her prayer-book was lying on the table, while she, pale and agitated, was pacing the room with hasty steps. She received her family with a slight motion of her head, and looked anxiously toward tlie door, until it had closed after the entrance of little Marie Antoinette. Then the empress sighed, and turned away her head lest her children should see the tears that were gushing from her eyes. But when mass was over, and little Marie Antoinette approached her mother, she took the child up in her arms, and tenderly kissing her cheek, said : "How is Christina, my darling?" "Sister Christina is very sick, imperial mamma," rei)lied the child, " and she cries all day long. But she loves you very dearly, and longs to see you. " Tlie empress put down her little daughter without a word, and as if she thought to mortify her worldliness, she signed to all present to withdraw, and falling upon her knees, prayed long and fervently. An hour or two after she sent for her confessor. As he left her room and passed through the anteroom, the attendants saw that his countenance looked joyous in the extreme. They flocked to hear if there was any hope of convincing the empress of the necessity of her return to the world. "I think tliere is much," replied the father. "God be thanked, her maternal love has overcome the dangerous lethargy into whicli sorrow had plunged our beloved sovereign. For a time she was overcome by her grief as a widow ; but she begins to feel tliat her children have a right to her counsels and care. Later she will rec- ognize the claims of her people, and Austria will be saved from the mad schemes of that unbelieving dreamer, her son." "Do you really believe that her majesty will return to the throne?" asked the countess. " I do. She besought me in trembling tones to tell her some- thing of her beloved cliild — and I did nothing to tranquillize lier, for slie has no right to seclude herself from her people. Maria Theresa is a greater sovereign than her son will ever be, and Austria cannot afford to lose her now. She will visit her daughter to-day. Tell the archduchess not to fear her brother's opposition ; for her mother, once resolved to return to her people, will see that her own daughtei's are not made wretclied by a tyrannical brother. The jjrin- cess will marry lii>r lover." "I hasten. How soon may we expect the empress?" "She will .sm'ely be there before many hours. Solitude is not congenial to Maria Theresa's heart ; her active mind craves occupa- tion, and her grief requires it. Let us appeal to her affections DIFFERENCE BETWEEN ABBESS AND EMPRESS. 153 through the illuess of her child, and complete reaction will ensue. It once we can persuade her to quit her seclusion, the cloister-dream is over. Let us all work in concert to restore her to the world. It is not the sovereign of a great nation who has a right like Mary to sit at the feet of Jesus. Go at once. Count Bathiany, and may God bless the efforts we are making tt) restore our empress to her sense of duty. Church and state are alike endangered by the fatal step she has taken. " CHAPTER XXXVII. THE DrPFERENCE BETWEEN AN ABBESS AND AN EMPRESS. It was the hour of dinner. Complete silence reigned through- out tlie imperial palace, except in the halls and stairways that led from the imperial diuing-hall to the kitcliens below. Both lay far from the apartments of the empress-abbess. She, therefore, felt that she could visit her child without fear of observation. She had just concluded her own solitary dinner, and was trying to collect her thoughts for prayer. In vain. They icould wander to the sick-bed of tier daughter, whom fancy pictured dying without the precious cares that a mother's hand alone is gifted to bestow. Maria Theresa felt that her heart was all too storm -tossed for prayer. She closed her book with a pang of self-reproach, and rose from her arm-chair. "It is useless, " said slie, at last. "I must obey the call of my rebellious heart, and tread once more the paths of earthly love and eartlily cares. I cannot remain here and think that my Christina longs for her mother's presence, and that I may not wipe her tears away with my kisses. It is my duty to tend my sick child. I am not in the right path, or a merciful God would strengthen me to tread it courageously. I must replace their father to my children. Poor orphans ! They need twice tlie love I gave before, and, God forgive me, I w^as about to abandon them entirely. It is no injury to the memoiy of my Francis, for, through his children, I shall but love him the more. How^ I long once more to press them to my heart ! Yes, I must go, and this is the hour. I will pass by the private corridors, and surprise my Christina in her solitude. " With more activity than she had been able to summon to her help since the emperor's burial, Maria Theresa hastened to her dressing- room, and snatching up her long, black cloak, threw it around her person. As she was drawing the hood over her face, she caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror close by. She was shocked at her own image ; her face so corpse-like, her cloak so like a hideous pall. "I look like a ghost," thoughfthe empress. "And indeed I am dead to all happiness, for I have buried my all ! But Christina wiU be shocked at my looks. I must not frighten the poor child. " And actuated partly by maternal love, partly by womanly vanity, Maria Theresa slipped back the ugly hood that hid her white fore- head, and opened the black crape collar which encircled her neck, so that some portion of her throat was visible. "I will always be my Franz's poor widow," said the empress, while she arranged her toilet, "but I will not affright my children by my dress — now I look more like their mother. Let me hasten to my child. " 154 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. And having again flung back the hood so that some portions of her beautiful hair could be seen, she left the room. She opened the door softly and looked into the next apartment. She had well cal- culated her time, for no one was there ; her ladies of honor had all gone to dinner. " That is pleasant, " said she. " I am glad not to meet their won- dering faces ; glad not to be greeted as an empress, for I am an empress no longer. I am a poor, humble widow, fulfilling the only- earthly duties now left me to perform. " She bent her head and went softly through the second anteroom to the hall. Again, all was empty and silent ; neither page, nor sentry, nor lackey to be seen. She knew not why, but a feeling of desolation came over her. She had bidden adieu to the etiquette due to her rank, but this, she thougJit, was carrying the point too far. "If I had had the misfortune to fall suddenly ill," said she, "I must have called in vain for succor. No one is by to hear my voice. But at least there must be sentries in the other hall. " No ! That hall too was empty. No lackeys were there, no guards ! For the first time in her life, Maria Theresa was out of hearing of any human being, and she felt a pang of disappointment and humiliation. She started at the sound of her own footsteps, and walked faster, that she might come within siglit of some one — any one. Suddenly, to her joy, she heard the sound of voices, and paused to listen. The door of the room whence the voices were heard was slightly ajar, and the empress overheard the following conversation. The speakers were Father Porhammer and tlie Countess Fuchs. " Do not desj^air, " said the father ; " the empress is forgiving and magnanimous ; and when she shall have admitted you again to her presence, it will be your duty to aid all those who love Austria, by using your influence to recall her majesty to the throne. Woe to Austria if she persists in elevating her grief above her duty as a sovereign ! Woe to the nation if her son, that rebellious child of the church, reign over this land ! His insane love of novelty — " "For Heaven's sake, father, " replied the countess, "say nothing against the emperor ! His mother's will has placed him on the throne, and we must submit." The empress heard no more. With noiseless tread she hurried on, until she turned the corner of a side-hall, and then she relaxed her pace. She pondered over what she had just heard, and it did not contribute to tranquillize her mind. " What can he be doing?" thought she. "What are those mad schemes of which my friends have tried to apprise me? He was ever self-willed and stubborn ; ever inclined to skepticism. Alas ! alas ! I foresee sad days for my poor Austria !" At that moment tlu! einpr(>ss had gained a small hunling wliich led to a staircase wliich she had to descend. She was about to pro- ceed on her way when she perceived a man, whose back was turned toward her, seated on the topmo.st step. He was so iiuiet tliat she thought he was asleep. Rut ;is her foot toiKnied liim h(> turned care- lessly round, and perceiving tlu* empress, rose slowly, and bent his head as tliough to any lady whom lie might pass. Maria Theresa was astoni.shed. She knew not wdiat to think of the irreverent bearing of this man, who was no other than Stockel, DIFFERENCE BETWEEN ABBESS AND EMPRESS. 155 one of the servants whose duty it had been, for thirty years, to light the fii'es in her dressing-room. He had been accustomed every morning to appear before his im- perial lady, in winter, to see that her fires were burning ; in sum- mer, to distribute her alms. Stockel was from Tyrol ; he had been a favorite servant of the empress ; and being an upright and intelli- gent man, his word was known to have some weight with her.* Stockel had been the most respectful and loyal of servants ; the appearance alone of the empress had always made his old wrinkled face light up with joy. How did it happen that now, when he had been parted from her for four weeks, he seemed iuditferentV "He is offended because I have never sent for him," thought the kind-hearted empress ; " I must try to appease him. " "I am glad to see you, Stockel," said she, with one of her own bewitching smiles ; " it is long since you have visited me in my room. I am such a poor, sorrowing widow, that I have not had heart enough to think of the poverty of others." Stockel said nothing. He turned and slightly slirugged his shoulders. "How?" said Maria Theresa good-humoredly, "are you offended? Have you the heart to be angry with your empress?" "Empress?" returned Stockel ; "I took your highness for a pious nun. The whole world knows that Maria Theresa is no longer an empress ; she no longer reigns in Austria. " Maria Theresa felt a pang as she lieard these words, and her cheeks flushed — almost with anger. But overcoming the feeling she smiled sadly and said : " I see that you are really angry, poor Stockel. You do not like to see my palace made a cloister. You think, per- haps, that I have done wrong?" " I do not pretend to judge of the acts of the rulers of earth, " replied he gloomily. " Perhaps the deeds which in ordinaiy people would be called cowardly, may with tliem be great and noble. I know nothing about it ; but I know what my beloved empress once said to me. Slie was then young and energetic, and she had not forgotten the oath she had taken when the archbishop crowned her at St. Stephen's — the oath wliich bound her to be a faithful ruler over her people until God released lier. " "What said your empress then?" "I will tell your highness. I had lost my young wife, the one I loved best on earth, and I came to beg my discharge ; for my long- ing was to go back to my native mountains and live a hermit's life in Tyrol. My empress would not release me. 'How!' said she, 'are you so weak that you must skulk away from the world because Almigthy God has seen fit to bereave you of your wife? He tries your faith, man, and you must be firm, whether you face the storm or bask in the sunshine. Did you not promise to serve me faith- fully, and will you now cast away your useful life in vain sorrow? What would you think of me were I so lighth* to break my oath to my people — I who must lift my head above every tempest of private sor- row, to fulfil my vow until death?' Thus spoke my empress ; but that was many years ago, and she was then sovereign of all Austria." Maria Theresa looked down, and the tear-drops that had been gathering in her eyes fell upon her black dress, where they glistened like diamonds. *Thiebault, "M6moires de Vingt Ans." 156 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. " It is true, " whispered she, " I was sovereign of all Austria. " "And what prevents you from being sovereign to-day?" asked Stockel eagerly. " Have your people released you?" The empress waved her hand impatiently. " Enough, " said she, " let me go my way !" " But I have a petition to make, and as it is the last favor I shall ever ask, I hope j^our majesty will not deny me. " " Speak your wish, " replied Maria Theresa hastily. "I beg of your majesty to allow me to quit your service," replied the man moodily. "I cannot forget the words of Maria Theresa. I will not skulk away from the world while I have strength to work. 1 am tired of the idle life I lead. It is summer, and there is no fire to kindle. As for the poor unfortunates whom I used to visit, I can do them no good ; their benefactress is no more. I must do something, or life will be a burden ; and if your majesty will con- descend to give me leave, I shall seek another place. " "Another place, Stockel!" said the empress. "What other place?" " A place in the household of the reigning empress, " answered Stockel with a low inclination. Maria Theresa raised her head, and her astonishment was visible in her large, open eyes. "The reigning empress?" said she musing. " Who can that be ?" " The wife of the reigning emperor, your majesty, " said Stockel grimly. The empress threw back her proud head, and drew her mantle convulsively around her. " It is well, " said she. "Come to me to-morrow, and you shall hear my decision. " CHAPTER XXXVIII. THE REIGNING EMPRESS. The empress went slowly down the staircase. This staircase led to the left wing of the palace, where the apartments of the imperial children were situated. From earliest childhood the daughters of Maria Theresa had had each one her separate suite. Each one had her governess, her ladies of honor, and her train of servants, and lived as if in a miniature court. On great festivals, national or domestic, the younger members of the imperial family were invited to the table of the empress ; other- wise they ate in private with their retinue, and each child had a separate table. It was now the dinner-hour, and Maria Tlieresa had selected it, because she felt sure that all the attendants of her children were at table, and no one would know of her visit to Christina. But she was mistaken. As she passed by the anteroom leading to the apart- ments of her children, she heard the voices of the lords and ladies in waiting, and tlirough the half-opened door, saw them chatting together in groups. They did not seem to observe their ex-sover- eign ; they went on conversing as if nothing had happened. But as the empress was passing the apartments of little Marie Antoinette, THE REIGNING EMPRESS. 157 her governess appeared, and, with a cry of joy, threw herself at Maria Theresa's feet, and covered her hand with kisses. The empress smiled. A thrill of pleasure ran through her frame, as she received the homage to which from her birth she had been accustomed. "Rise, countess," said she, kindly, "and do not let Marie Antoi- nette know that I am near. But, tell me, how comes it that at this hour I find the retinue of my children at leisure, while they are at table?" "We are at leisure, your majesty," replied the countess, "because we are waiting for their highnesses to rise from the table. " "Is it then a festival, that my children should be dining at the imperial table?" "Please your majesty, the reigning emperor has abolished the private tables of their highnesses your children. He finds it cheaper and more convenient for all the members of the imperial faimly to be served at once and at one table. " "Where, then, do my children dine?" asked the empress, with asperity. '■'■ En famille, with her imperial majesty, tlie reigning empress." " The reigning empress !" echoed Maria Theresa, with a frown. "But how conies it tliat my children leave their rooms without a retinue? Have you, then, already forgotten that I never permit a breach of court-ceremonial on any account?" " Please your majesty, the emperor dislikes etiquette, and he has strictly forbidden all Spanish customs as laughable and ridiculous. He has forbidden all attendance upon the imperial family, except on new year's day. He has also forbidden us to kneel before his majesty, because it is an outlandish Spanish custom, and a homage due to God alone. All the French and Italian servants of the palace are dismissed, and their places are supplied by natives. The emperor wishes to have every thing at his court essentially German. For that reason he has ordered the mass to be translated and celebrated in the German language. " The empress heaved a sigh, and drew her mantilla over her face, as if to shut out the future which was unrolling itself to her view. She felt sick at heart ; for she began to comprehend that her suc- cessor was not only creating a new order of things, but was speaking with contempt of his mother's reign. But she would not comtem- plate the sad vision ; she strove to turn back her thoughts to the present. " But if you no longer have your private table, " continued she, "why not accompany the princesses?" " Because the emperor deems it fitting that the imperial family should dine alone. We, ladies in waiting, dine in a small room set apart for us, and then return to our apartments to await their highnesses." "But the lords in waiting, do they not dine with you?" "No, your majesty, they have received orders at one o'clock to go to their own houses, or to their former lodgings, to dine. The court table is abolished, and the emperor finds that by so doing he has economized a very considerable sum." A deep flush of anger passed over the face of Maria Theresa, and her lip curled contemptuously. Economy was one of the few virtues which the profuse and munificent empress had never learned to 158 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. practise. She considered it beneath the dignity of a sovereign to count the cost of anything. " " Enough, " said she, in a constrained voice, " I will go to Chris- tina. Let no one know of my visit. I desire to see my sick daughter alone. " She bent her lofty head, and walked rapidly away. With a beat- ing heart she opened the door that led to the sleeping-room of the princess. There, on a couch, lay a pale, weeping llgure, the em- press's darling, her beautiful Christina. She stopped for a moment on the threshold, and looked lovingly at the dear child, whom, for four days, she had not seen ; then a thrill of unutterable joy pervaded her wliole being. At this moment Christina raised her languid eyes ; her glance met that of her mother ; and with a piercing cry, she sprang from the couch. But, overcome by weakness and emotion, she faltered, grew paler, and sank to the floor. The empress darted forward and caught her fainting daughter in her arms. She carried her to the divan, laid her softly down, and, with quivering lip, surveyed the pale face and closed eyes of the princess. She recovered slowly, and at length, heaving a deep sigh, unclosed her eyes. Mother and child contemplated each other with loving glances, and as the archduchess raised her arms and clasped them around her mother's neck, she whispered feebly : "Oh, now, all is well ! I am no longer desolate ; my dear, dear mother has returned to me. She has not forsaken us ; she will shield us from oppression and misfortune. " Like a frightened dove Christina clung to the empress, and bury- ing her face in her mother's breast, she wept tears of relief and joy. The empress drew her close to her heart. " Yes, darling, " said she, with fervor, " I am here to shield you, and I will never forsake you again. No one on earth shall oppress you now. Tell me, dear child, what goes wrong with you?" "Oh, mother," whispered Christina, "there is one in Austria, more powerful than yourself, who will force me to his will. You cannot shield me from the emperor, for you have given him the power to rule over us ; and, oh, how cruelly he uses his right !" " What I have given, I can recall, " cried the empress. " Mine are the power and the crown, and I have not yet relinquished them. Now speak, Christina ; what grieves you, and why are your eyes so red with weeping?" "Because I am the most unhappy of mortals," cried Christina, passionately. " Because I am denied the right which every peasant- girl exercises ; the right of refusing a man whom I do not love. Oh, mother, if you can, save me from tlie detested Duke of Chablais, whom my cruel brother forces upon me as a husband." "Istliatyour sorrow, my child?" exclaimed the empress. "Jo- 8e])h is like his father ; he loves wealth. The emperor had proposed this half-brother of the King of Sardinia for you, Christina, but I refused my consent ; and, now without my knowledge, Joseph would force him upon you, because of his great riches. But pa- tience, patience, my daughter. I will show you that I am not so powerless as you think: I will show you that no one in Austria shall give away my Christina, without her mother's approbation." While the empress spoke, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes glowed THE REIGNING EMPRESS. 159 with a proud consciousness of might not yet renounced forever. The sorrowing widow was being once more transformed into the stately sovereign, and the eyes, which had been so dimmed by tears, were lit up by the fire of new resolves. "Oh, mother, my own imperial mother," said Christina, "do not only free me from the man whom I detest, but bless me with the hand of the man I love. You well know how long I have loved Albert of Saxony, you know how dear I am to him. I have sworn never to be the wife of another, and I will keep my oath, or die! Oh, mother, do not make me the sport of policy and ambition ! Let me be happy with him whom I love. What are crowns and sceptres and splendor, when the heart is without love and hope? I am will- ing to lead a simple life with Albert — let me be happy in my own wa3^ Oh, mother ! I love him so far above all earthly creatiires, that I would rather be buried with him in the grave than be an em- press without him." And she fell upon her knees and wept anew. The empress liad listened musingly to her daughter's appeal. While Cluistiuawas speaking, the glamour of her own past love was upon her heart. She was a girl again ; and once more her life seemed bound uj) in the love she bore to young Francis of Lorraine. Thus had she spoken, so had she entreated her father, the proud emperor, until he had relented, and she had become the wife of Cliristina's own father ! Not only maternal love, but womanly sympathy pleaded for her un- happy child. She bent over her, and with her white hand fondly stroked the rich masses of Christina's golden-brown liair. " Do not weep, my daughter, " said she tenderly. " True, you have spoken words most unseemly for one of your birth ; for it is the duty of a princess to buy her splendor and her rank with many a stifled longing and many a disappointment of the affections. Kind fate bestowed upon me not only grandeur, but the husband of my love, and daily do I thank the good God who gave me to my best beloved Franz. I do not know why you, too, may not be made a happy exception to the lot of princesses. I have still four beautiful daughters for whom state policy may seek alliances. I will permit one of my children to be hap])y as I have been. God grant that the rest may find happiness go hand in hand with duty. " The princess, enraptured, would have thrown her arms around her mother's neck ; but suddenly her face, which had grown rosy with joy, became pale again, and her countenance wore an expres- sion of deep disapj)ointment. "Oh, mother," cried she, "we build castles, while we forget that you are no longer the sovereign of Austria. And while you weej) and pray in your dark cell, the emperor, with undutif ul hand, over- turns the edifice of Austria's greatness — that edifice which you, dearest mother, had reared with your own hands. He is like Eros- tratus ; his only fame will be to have destroyed a temple which he had not the cunning to build." " We will wrest the fagots from his sacrilegious hands, " cried thd empress. The archduchess seemed not to have heard her mother's words She threw her arms around tlie empress, and, clinging convulsively to her, exclaimed, "Oh, do not forsake me, nij' mother and my em- press. That horrible woman, who was dragged from her obscurity 160 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. to curse my brother's life ; that Jresome, hideous Josepha — do not suffer her to wear your title and your crown. O God ! O God ! Must I live to see Maria Theresa humbled, while Josepha of Bavaria is the reigning empress of Austria?" The empress started. This was the third time she liad heard these words, and each time it seemed as if a dagger had pierced her proud heart. "Josepha of Bavaria the reigning empress of Austria !" said she scornfully. " We shall see how long she is to bear my title and wear my crown ! But I am weary, my daughter. I must go to my soli- tude, but fear nothing. Whether I be empress or abbess, no man on earth shall opi^ress my children. The doors of the cloister have not yet closed upon me ; I am still, if I choose to be, the reigning empress of Austria. " She pressed a kiss upon Christina's forehead, and left the room. On her return she encountered no one, and she was just about to open the door of her own anteroom, when she caught the sound of voices from within. "But I tell you, gentlemen, " cried an angry voice, "that her majesty, the ex-empress, receives no one, and has no longer any revenues. She has nothing more to do with the administration of affairs in Austria. " " But I must see the empress, " replied a second and a deprecating voice. " It is my right, for she is our sovereign, and she cannot so forsake us. Let me see the empress. My life depends upon her goodness. " "And I," cried a third voice, "I too must see her. Not for my- self do I seek this audience, but for her subjects. Oh, for the love of Austria, let me speak with my gracious sovereign !" "But I tell you that I dare not," cried«the ruffled page. "It would ruin me not only with her majesty, but with the reigning emperor. The widowed empress has no more voice in state affairs, and the emperor never will suffer her to have any, for he has all the power to himself, and he never means to yield an inch of it. " " Woe then to Austria !" cried the third speaker. "Why do you cry, 'Woe to Austria?'" asked a voice outside; and the tall, majestic form of the empress appeared at the door. " Our empress !" cried the two petitioners, while both fell at her feet and looked up into her face with unmistakable joy. The empress greeted them kindly, but she added : " Rise, gentle- men. I hear that my son, the emperor, has forbidden his subjects to kneel to him ; they shall not, therefore, kneel to me, for he is right. To God alone belongs such homage. Rise, therefore, Fathei Aloysius ; the brothers of the holy order of Jesus must never kneel to fellow- mortal. And you. Counsellor Biindener, rise also, and stand erect. Your limbs liave grown stiff in my service ; in your old age you have the right to spare them. You," added she, turn- ing to the page, "return to your post, and attend more faithfully to your duty tlian you have done to-day. When I left this room, no one guarded the entrance to it. " "Your majesty," stammered the confused page, "it was the din- ner-hour, and I had never dreamed of your leaving your a)>artments. TTis ma jcsty the emperor has reduced the pages and sentries to half their number, and there are no longer enough of us to relieve one THE REIGNING EMPRESS. 161 another as we were accustomed to do under the reign of your majesty. " " It is well, " said the empress haughtily. "I will restore order to my household before another day has passed. And now, gentle- men, what brings you hither? Speak, Father Aloysius. " "My conscience, your majesty," replied Father Aloysius, fer- vently. " I cannot stand by and see the hailstorm of corruption that devastates our unliappy country. I cannot see Austria flooded with the works of French philosophers and German infidels. What is to become of religion and decency if Voltaire and Rousseau are to be the teachers of Austrian youth !" "It rests with yourself, my friend," replied the empress, "to protect the youth of Austria from such contaminating influences. Why do those whom I appointed censors of the press permit the introduction of these godless works in my realms?" "Your majesty's realms!" replied the father sadly. "Alas, they are no longer yours. Your son is emperor and master of Austria, and he has commanded the printing and distribution of every infi- del work of modern times. The censors of the press have been silenced, and ordered to discontinue their revision of books. " "Has my son presumed so far?" cried the empress, angrily. "Has he dared to overthrow the barriers which for the good of my subjects I had raised to protect them from the corrupt influences of French infidelity ? Has he ordered the dissemination of obscene and ungodly books? O my God ! How culpable have I been to the trust which thou hast placed in my hands ! I feel my guilt ; I have sinned in the excess of my grief. But I will conquer my weak heart. Go in peace, father. I will ponder youi* words, and to-morrow you shall hear from me. " The father bowed and retired, while the empress turned toward Counsellor Bimdener and inquired the cause of his distress. " Oh, your majesty, " cried the old man in accents of despair, "unless you help me I am ruined. If you come not again to my assistance my children will starve, for I am old and — " "What!" interrupted the empress, "your children starve with the pension I gave you from my own private purse ?" " You did, indeed, give me a generous pension, " replied Biindener, " and may God bless your majesty, for a more bountiful sovereign never bore the weight of a crown. But desolation and despair sit in the places where once your majesty's name was mingled each day with the prayers of those whom you had succored. The em- peror has withdrawn every pension bestowed by you. He has received a statement of every annuity paid by your majesty's orders, and has declared his intention of cleaning out the Augean stables of this wasteful beneficence. " * The empress could not suppress a cry of indignation. Her face grew scarlet, and her lips parted. But she conquered the angry im- pulse that would have led her to disparage her son in the presence of his subject, and her mouth closed firmly. With agitated mien she paced her apartment, her eyes flashng, her breast heaving, her whole frame convulsed with a sense of insulted maternity. Then she came toward the counsellor, and lifting her proud head as though Olympus had owned her sway, she spoke : " Go home, my friend, " said she imperiously, " and believe my *Hubner, "Life of Joseph II.," vol. i., p. 28. 162 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. royal word when I assure you that neither you nor any other ' my pensioners shall be robbed of your annuities. Princely faith shall be sacred above all consideration of thrift, and we shall see who dares impeach mine !" So saying, Maria Theresa passed into her dressing-room, where her ladies of honor were assembled. They all bent the knee as she entered, and awaited her commands in reverential silence. At tliat moment the flourish of trumpets and the call of the guards to arms were heard. The empress looked astounded, and directeJ an inquiring glance toward the window. She knew full well the meaning of that trumpet signal and that call to arms ; they were heard on the departure or tlie return of one person only in Austria, and that person was herself, the empress. For the third time the trumpet sounded. "What means this?" asked she, frowning. " Please yoiu- majesty, " answered a lady of the bedchamber, " it signifies that her imperial majesty, the reigning empress, has re- turned from her walk in the palace gardens. " Maria Theresa answered not a word. She walked quickly past her attendants and laid her hand upon the lock of the door which led into her private study. Her head was thrown back, her eyes were full of flashing resolve, and the tone of her voice was clear, full, and majestic. It betokened that Maria Theresa was " herself again. " " Let Prince Kaunitz be summoned, " said she. " Send hither the Countess Fuchs and Father Porhammer. Tell the two latter to come to my study when the prince leaves it. " CHAPTER XXXIX. THE CO-REGENT DEPOSED. Scarcely a quarter of an hour had elapsed since the empress's orders had been issued, when a page announced Prince Kaunitz. Maria Theresa went forward to receive him. Her whole being seemed filled with a feverish excitement which contrasted singularly with the unaltered demeanor of her prime minister, who, cold and tranquil as ever, advanced to meet his sovereign, and bowed with his usual phlegm. "Well," said Maria Theresa, after a pause, "every thing has not changed in the four weeks of my retirement from covirt. You at least are the same in appearance. Let me hope that you are the same in spirit and in mind." "Please your majesty, " replied Kaivnitz, "four weeks have not yet gone by since I had the honor of an interview with you." " Wliat do you mean by that?" asked the empress, impatiently. "Do you wish to remind me that I had resolved to wait four weeks before I decided upon a permanent course of action?" "Yes, your majesty," said Kaunitz. "I am somewhat vain, as everybody knows, and I have already seen my triumpli in your majesty's face. I read there that my noble empress has proved me a true prophet. Slie lias not yet been away from her subjects four weeks, and already her head has silenced the weakness of her THE CO-REGENT DEPOSED. 163 heart. Three weeks have sufficed to bring Maria Theresa once more to her sense of duty. " "Ah !" said the empress, "are you then so sure that my novitiate wil not end in a cloister?" " I am convinced of it. For never sliall I forget tlie day on which your majesty swore to be a faitliful ruler over Austria as long as you lived. I am convinced of it, too, because I know that, although my empress has the heart of a woman, she has the head of a man, and in all well-ordered unions the head rules the household." The empress smiled faintlj', but said nothing. Her arms were crossed over her breast, her head was bent in thought, and she went slowly back and forth from one end of her study to the other. Kaunitz followed her with his large, tranquil eyes, which seemed to penetrate to the remotest regions of her throbbing heart. Suddenly she stood before him, and for a moment gazed earnestly in his face. " Kaunitz, " said she, " I have not only considered you for many years as a wise and great statesman, but, wliat is better yet, I have esteemed you as a man of honor. I exact of you that you act hon- orably and openly toward me in this hour. Do you promise?" " An honorable man, your majesty, need not promise to do that which honor requires of him. " "True, true. But you might pay unconscious deference to my rank or to my sex. Courtesy might mislead you. This is precisely what I warn you to avoid. I wish you to speak candidly without thought or consideration for empress or woman. Remember how you pledged your life to Austria's good — and, forgetting all else, answer me truthfully and withovit fear. Will you, Kaunitz?" " I will, your majesty. Ask, and you shall be truthfully answered — so help me God. " "Then, tell me, which of us is better calculated to reign in Austria — Joseph or myself? Which of us will best promote the wel- fare of the Austrian people? Do not answer me at once. Take time to reflect upon the subject, for a weighty question lies in the balance of this hour. I cannot trust myself in this decision, for I have wept so many tears tliat I have not the strength to see wherein my duty lies. I cannot even trust mj' own misgivings, for pride or vanity may have blinded my eyes to truth. I am not sure that I view things in their proper light. It is useless, therefore, for me to speak. I desire to hear no one but yourself. I swear to you, by the memory of Charles V. , that, whatever you say shall be sacred ; for I have exacted of you candor — and say what you will, your can- dor shall not otfend. Who, then, is best fltted foreign, Joseph or I?" "Your majesty, I have had full time to reflect upon this weighty question ; for since first you announced your intention to resign the throne, I have thought of nothing else. In politics we know neither predilection nor prejudice. Necessity and interest decide all things. Your majesty has so often called me a good politician, that I have ended by believing myself to be one. It follows thence that, in de- liberating upon this great question, I have laid aside all personal inclination and sympathy, and have had in view the welfare of Austria alone. But for this, the matter would have required no thought, for the Emperor Joseph and I have nothing in common. He fears me, and I do not love him.* AVe never could be made to ♦Kaunitz's own words. Wrasall, vol. ji., p. 490. 164 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. understand one another ; for the language of the heart is not to be forced by edicts, as is the language of the court. The emperor has forbidden all tongues in Germany, save one. If he persist in this, he will alienate his subjects, and Avtstria will soon lose her great- ness. When a man intends to force his people to forget their mother-tongue, he must do it by degrees ; and if he succeeds, he will be a skilful teacher. The best reforms are to be introduced through the byways of life. If we trust them on the highway, they shock and terrify the people. The young emperor, regardless of these considerations, has violently suppressed whatever seemed in- judicious to him in your majesty's administration. Perhaps you had done too much ; your son, certainly, does too little. I hear everywhere of interdicts, but nowhere of concessions. Old things destroyed, but nothing created to replace them. What will be the result of this? Austria must soon be reduced to a mass of ruins, and your son will go down to posterity with a fame like that of Attila. Save Austria ! save him from the curse that threatens both. We have not yet completed the noble edifice of which eleven years ago we laid the foundations. We must finish the structure, and so solid must be its walls that our thoughtless young reformer shall not have strength to batter them down. Your majesty must remain the reigning Empress of Austria. You cannot resign your empire to your son. Duty and the welfare of your subjects forbid it. " The empress inclined her head approvingly. " I believe that you are right, Kaunitz, " replied she. " It is not in the pride, but in the deep humility of my heart, that I reassume the crown which God himself placed upon my head. I have no right to say that the load is too heavy since He wills me to bear it. Indeed I feel that He will give me strength to accomplish His will in me, and I am now ready to say, 'Behold the handmaid of the Lord ; be it done to me accord- ing to His word. ' I will never again lift my treasonable hand against that crown which I pray Heaven I may wear for the good of my people. But you, prince, you must be at my side ; together we have planned for Austria, together we must complete the noble structure of her greatness. " "I remain, your majesty, and will never cease to labor until tlie banner of the Hapsburg floats proudly from its battlements. But we must decorate as well as strengthen. We have beautiful young princesses whose alliances will bring wealth and splendor to our imperial edifice. Within, we shall have solid walls that will insure the durability of our structure ; without, we shall have brilliant alliances that will perfect its beauty. " "You have a marriage to propose?" said the empress, smiling. "I liave, your majesty, a marriage with the young King of Naples. " "For which of my daughters?" asked ]\Iaria Theresa uneasily. " For the one your majesty sliall select. " "Then it sliall be Johanna. She is very beautiful, and has a proud ;ind ambitious heart which craves less for love than for rank and splendor. But if I give one of my daughters to diplomacy, you must leave me another for domestic li;ii)piuess. Christina has un- dertaken to think tliat slie nuist marry for love, and I think we ouglit to make her ha])py in her own modest way. We owe amends to All)ert of Saxony for having declined an alliance with liis sister ; we also owe him something for his fidelity and good faith as an THE CO -REGENT DEPOSED. 165 ally. Let the young lovers be united, then ; we have gold and daughters enough to tolerate one marriage of inclination in our im- perial house. " " But your majesty will give up the youngest, Marie Antoinette, to diplomacy, will you not?" "You destine her to the throne of France, prince — is it not so?" " Yes, your majesty. The son of the dauphin is a noble youth, and although his father was unfriendly to Austria, Choiseuil and La Pompadour are for us. Marie Antoinette, therefore, is to be Queen of France. This, however, must be a profound secret be- tween oiu-selves. While her little highness is being fashioned for her future dignity, we must many her elder sisters, if not so brill- iantly, at least as advantageously as we can. First, then, upon the list is the Archduchess Christina. We must find some suitable rank for herself and her husband, and your majesty will of course be- stow a dowry worthy of your daughter's birth and station. " " I will present them the duchy of Teschen as a wedding-gift, and it must be your care, prince, to find an appointment for the Elector of Saxony that will be worthy of my son-in-law." "Let us name him Captain-General and Stadtholder of Hungary. That will be an effectual means of converting the Hungarians into Austrians, and the appointment is in every way suitable to the elector's rank." The empress nodded, smiling acquiescence. "Your head," said she, " is always in the right place ; and sometimes I cannot help thinking that your heart is better than the world believes it to be, else how could you so readily divine the hearts of others? How quickly have you devised the best of schemes to promote my daugh- ter's happiness, without compromising her imperial station! Christina shall be Stadthalterin of Hungary ; and in her name and my own I thank you for the suggestion. One thing, however, lies heavy on my heart. It is the thought of the blow I am about to inflict upon my poor Joseph. How will he bear to be deprived of his sovereignty?" "I think your majesty named him co-regent only," said Kau- nitz. "I did," replied the empress, "and in very truth I withdraw nothing but a temporary privilege. As empress I know my right to resume the reins of power ; but it grieves my maternal heart to exercise it. I think I see him now, poor boy, with his great blue eyes fixed in despair upon me. I never shall have the courage to announce my return to him. " " There wnll be no need to restrict him in his co-regency. He can be removed to th war department, where he may reign un- fettered. " " He shall have unlimited power there, " exclaimed the empress, joyfully. " It is the proper province of a man, and Joseph will fill the station far better than I have ever done. I promise not to inter- fere with him in the field. For other state affairs, I shall attend to them myself, and I do not think that I will ever delegate my power a second time. You had best inform Joseph of my resumption of the throne, and let the Frau Josepha also be advised that she is no longer reigning empress of Austria. For me, I must always remain at heart a sorrowing widow. My sorrows I can never overcome ; IGO JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. my widow's weeds I shall never lay aside.* But above the weeds I will wear the mantle of royalty ; and since you have so determined for me, Austria shall once more own the sway of Maria Theresa. " CHAPTER XL. MOTHER AND SON. The dream was over — the blessed dream of philanthropy and reform ! The reins of power had been snatched fi'om his hands, and Joseph was once more consigned to a life of insignificant inactivity. Like a wounded bird, whose broken wing no longer bears him aloft, his heart fluttered and fell — its high hopes dashed to earth. The old influences which he hated, were at work again, and he had no recourse but absolute silence. His deep humiliation, he was con- strained to hide under a mask of serenity ; but he knew that his spirit was crushed, and night fell over his stricken soul. Still, he struggled against the chill of his despair, and with all the strength of his being he strove against misfortune. "I will not succumb," thought he, "I will not be vanquished by this secret grief. I will not be a cause of sorrow to my friends and of triumph to my enemies — I will live and overpower misfortune. Since all in Vienna is so dark, let me seek sunshine elsewhere — I will travel ! — Away from this stifling court, to breathe the free air of heaven ! Here I am an emperor without an emjDire ; there at least I shall be a man, to whom the world belongs, wherever his steed has strength and speed to bear him. Yes, let me travel, that I may gird up my loins for the day when the sun of royalty shall rise for me. It will come ! it will come ! And when it dawns, it must find me strong, refreshed, and ready for action. " The emperor made his preparations to depart, and then, in com- pliance with the requisitions of court etiquette, he sought his mother, to obtain her consent to his journey. Maria Theresa re- ceived her son with that half-mournful tenderness which lent such an indescribable fascination to her appearance and manners. She looked at him with a smile so winning and aff'ectionate, that Joseph, in spite of himself, felt touched and gladdened ; and the hand which his mother held out was most fervently pressed to his lips. It was the fii'st time they had met in private since the empress had reas- cended her throne, and both felt the embarrassment and significance of the hour. "I have longed for this moment with anxious and beating heart, my son," said the mother, while she drew him toward her. "I know, my cliild, that your heart is embittered toward me. You think that I would have been wiser as well as kinder had I never left my widow's cloister. But reflect, my dear son, as I have done, that my sceptre was given me by the hand of God, and that it would be sinful and cowardly in me to give it into the hands of another until He, in His wisdom, releases me from durance." * She kept her word. Every month, on the day of her Iiushand's death, she spent the day in solitary prayer and on every yearly anniversary of her widowhood, she knelt for hours hy the side of tlie emperor's tomb, jjr.ayinp for the repose of his soul. Her private apartments were ever after lunif^ with k'"'i.v, and her coaches and liveries were of the same sad hue.— Caroline Picliler, " Memoirs." MOTHER AND SON. 167 Joseph looked with genuine emotion at the agitated countenance of his mother. He saw the tears gather and fall from her eyes ; he saw the quivering lip, the trembling frame ; he felt that her integ- rity was beyond suspicion, her love for him beyond all question. The icy barriers that had closed upon his heart, gave way ; he felt the warm and sunny glow of a mother's unspeakable love, and, yield- ing to the impulse of the moment, he flung his arras around the empress's neck, while he covered her face with kisses. "Mother, ray dear mother !" sobbed he ; and as if these words had opened the floodgates of all the love which filled his heart, he leaned his head upon her bosom, and was silent. Slie smiled fondly upon hira as he lay there ; she returned his kisses, and stroked his fair, high forehead with her loving hand. "Have you come back once more to your mother's heart, my darling?" whispered she. "Have you found your way back to the nest whence you have wandered away so long, you stray birdling? Do you feel, my son, that the mother's bosom is the resting-place for her children? Oh! promise me, my heart's treasure, to trust and love me from this hour? We are human, and therefore we are sinful and erring. I well know, dear boy, that I have many fail- ings. From my heart I regret them ; and if in your short life, as boy or man, I have grieved you, pardon me, dearest, for I have not meant it in unkindness. " " No, mother, '' said Joseph, " it is I who should sue for pardon. My heart is wild and stubborn ; but I believe that it beats with a love as true and warm for ray empress as that of any other man in Austria. Have patience with me, then, my mother, for I am in- deed a wandering bird ; and, in my wild flight, the shafts of this life have wounded and maimed me. But let us not speak of life — mine is a blasted one. " " Yes, my son, let us speak of your life, and of its misfortunes ; for I know that Josepha of Bavaria is its chiefest sorrow. I have heard something of your unhappiness as a husband, and I pity you both. " "You pity her!" cried Joseph, hastily. "How does she deserve my mother's compassion?" The empress laid her hand gently upon her son's shoulder. "She loves you, Joseph, " said she, " and I cannot refuse my sympathy to a woman who loves without hope of return. " "She loves me!" exclaimed Joseph, with a laugh of derision. " Yes — and her love is my abhorrence and ray shame. Her ogling glances make me shudder with disgust. When she turns upon me her blotched and pimpled face, and calls me by the natue of husband, the courtiers sneer, and I — I feel as if I would love to forget my manhood and fell her to the earth. " "She is certainly ugly, "said the erapress, shaking her head, " but uglier women than she have inspired love. And remember, Joseph, that you chose her yourself. Besides, she has an excellent heart, if you woidd but take the trouble to exploi'e its unknown regions. Moreover, you will one day be sole Emperor of Austria, and you should seek to give an heir to your throne. If Josepha were the mother of your children, you would no longer think her ugly." "'She the mother of my children !" cried Joseph, with such keen- ness of hate, that the empress shuddered. " Do you think me capable 13 168 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. of such a degradation ? You have not seen Van Swieten lately, or he would have told you that this woman, in addition to her other attractions, is troubled with a new malady. " " Van Swieten did not mention it to me. " "Well, then, your majesty, I will mention it. This so-caUed empress has the scurvy. " "Oh, my son, my poor boy !" cried the empress, putting her arm around Joseph's neck as though she would have shielded him from infection. "That is a disgusting malady, but Van Swieten's skill will soon conquer it. " "Yes ; but neither he nor you will ever conquer my hate for Jier. Not all the world could make me forgive the deception that was practised upon me when she was allowed to become my wife. This woman the mother of my children ! No ! No one shall ever force me to be the father of any thing born of Josepha of Bavaria !" The empress turned away and sighed. It was in vain. This was hatred strong as death. "May God comfort you both!" said she, mournfully. "Then He must put us asunder!" cried out Joseph, almost be- side himself. "Believe me, mother, " continued he, "death alone can bring us consolation ; and may God forgive me when I pray that this atoning angel may come to my relief ! She or I ! No longer can I bear this ridicule of hearing this leper called an empress !" " Ti-avel, then, ray dear son, " said his mother. " Travel and try to enjoy life away from Vienna. Perchance when you will have seen how little true happinesss there is on earth, experience may come to your help, and teach you to be less unhappy. " The emperor shook his head. "Nothing," replied he, moodily, " can ever console me. Wherever I go, I shall hear the rattle of my prisoner's chain. Let us speak of it no more. I thank your majesty for the permission to leave Vienna, and I thank you for this bright and sacred hour, whose memory will bless me as long as I live. You have been to me this day a tender and sympathizing mother. May I henceforward be to you a grateful and obedient son. " " You have not yet told me whither you desire to travel, " said the empress, after a pause. "With your majesty's permission, I would wish to travel in Bohemia and Moravia, and then I wish to visit the courts of Dresden and Munich. Both sovereigns, through their ambassadors, have sent me urgent invitations. " " It would be uucourteous to refuse, " said the empress, earnestly. " It is politic for us, as far as possible, to bind all the German princes to us by interchange of kindness. " "Since this is your majesty's opinion, I hope that you will also consent to my acceptance of a third invitation. The King of Prussia has requested to have an interview with me at Torgau. " The brow of the empress darkened. "The King of Prussia?'" said .she. almost breathless. " Yes, your majesty ; and, to be frank with you, it is of all my invitations the one which I most desire to accei^t. I long to see face to face the king whom all Europe, friend or foe, tmites in calling 'Frederick the Great' — great not only as a hero, but also as a law- giver. " "Yes," cried the empress, with indignation, "the king whom MOTHER AND SON. 169 infidels delight to honor. I never supposed that lie would presume to approach my son and heir as an equal. The Mai'grave of Bran- denburg has a right to hold the wash-basin of the Emperor of Ger- many, but methinks he forgets his rank when he invites him to an interview. " "Ah, your majesty, " replied Joseph, smiling, "the Margrave of Brandenburg, to our sorrow and our loss, has proved himself a king ; in more than one battle has he held the wash-basin for Austria's sovereign, but it was to fill it with Austrian blood. " Maria Theresa grew more and more angry as she heard these bold words. "It ill becomes my son," said she, "to be the panegyrist of the victor whose laurels were snatched from his mother's brow." "Justice impels me to acknowledge merit, whether I see it in friend or foe, " answered the emperor. " Frederick of Prussia is a great man, and I only hope that I may ever resemble him. " The empress uttered an exclamation, and her large eyes darted lightning glances. " And thus speaks my son of the man who has injured and robbed his mother !" exclaimed she indignantly. " My son would press his hand who has spilled such seas of Austrian blood — would worship as a hero the enemy of his race ! But so long as I reign in Austria, no Hapsburger shall condescend to give the hand to a Hohenzollern. There is an old feud between our houses ; it cannot be healed." " But if there is feud, your majesty perceives that it is not the fault of the King of Prussia, since he holds out the right hand of friendship. I tliink it much more Christian-like to bury feuds than to perpetuate them. Your majesty sees, then, how Frederick has been calumniated, since he follows the Christian precept which commands us to forgive our enemies." "I wish to have nothing to do with him," said the empress. "But, as I had the honor of saying before, the king lias sent me a pressing invitation, and you said just now that it would be un- courteous to refuse. " "Not the invitation of Frederick. I will not consent to that." "Not even if I beg it as a favor to myself?' asked Joseph fer- vently. " Not even if I tell you that I have no wish so near at heart as that of knowing the King of Prussia? Think of this day, so brightened to me by the sunshine of your tenderness ! Let the mother plead for me with the sovereign ; for it is not to my empress, it is to my mother that I confide my hopes and wishes. Oh, do not drown the harniony of this hoiu* in discord ! Do not interpose a cloud between us now. " The empress threw back her head. "You threaten me, sir, with your displeasure? If there are clouds between us, see that they dis- perse from your own brow, and show me the face of a loyal subject and a respectful son. I will not consent to this visit to the King of Prussia ; the very thought of it is galling to my pride." "Is that your majesty's last word?" "It is my last." "Then I have nothing further to say, except that, as in duty bound, I will obey the orders of my sovereign, " replied Joseph, turn- ing deathly pale. "I shall refuse the invitation of the King of Prussia, and Iseg leave to retire. " Without awaiting the answer of his mother, he bowed, and hastily left the room. 170 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. " Dismissed like a school-boy, " muttered he, while tears of rage flowed down his cheeks. " Two chains on my feet — the chains of this accursed marriage, and the chains of my filial duty, impede my every step. When I would advance, they hold me back and eat into my flesh. But it is of no use to complain, I must learn to bear my fate like a man. I cannot rebel openly, therefore must I be silent. But my time w411 come ! He raised his head proudly, and with a firm step took the way to his private apartments. He went at once into his study, where, on his writing-desk, lay the letter of the King of Prussia. The emperor seatc^"'. himself at the desk, and, with a heavy sigh, took up his pen. " Tell the king, yovir master, " wrote he, " that I am not yet my own master ; I am the slave of another will. But I will find means some day to atone for the rudeness which I have been forced to offer him in return for his kindness. " * CHAPTER XLI. DEATH THE LIBERATOR. The cruel enemy which had laid low so many branches of the noble house of Hapsburg, had once more found entrance into the imperial palace at Vienna. This terrific invisible foe, which, from generation to generation, had hunted the imperial family with such keen ferocity, was the small-pox. Emperors and Empresses of Austria had been its victims, and almost every one of Maria Theresa's children bore, sooner or later, its brand upon their faces. This fiend had robbed them of tlie fair Isabella ; and now its enven- omed hand was laid upon the afiianced bride of the King of Naples. Tlie beautiful young Johanna was borne to the vaults of the Capu- chins, while in the palace its inmates were panic-stricken to hear that Josepha of Bavaria, too, had taken the infection. With such lightTiing swiftness had the venom darted through the veins of the unhappy empress, that her attendants had fled in disgust from the pestiferous atmosphere of her chamber. And there, with one hired nurse, whom the humane Van Swieten liad procured from a hospital, lay the wife of the Emperor of Austria. No loving liand smoothed the pillow beneatli her burning head, or held the cooling cup to her blood-stained lips ; no friendly voice whispered words of sympathy ; no familiar face bent over her with looks of pity. Alone and forsaken, as she had lived, so must she die ! At his first wife's bedside; Joseph had watched day and night ; but Josopha's h(! did not approacli. In vain liad slie sent each day, through Van Swieten, a petition to see liim, if only once ; Joseph returned, for all answer, that his duty to his mother and sisters forbade tlie risk. And there lay the woman whose princely station mocked her misery ; there she lay, unpiti(^d and unloved. The inmates of the palace hurried past the infected room, stopping their breathing as they ran : tlH> danglitcrs of Marin Tlu>resa never sonnich as inquired whetlier their abliorred sister-in-law were living or dead. But the poor dying empress was not even alone with her misery. ♦Hubner, " Life of Joseph II.," vol. i., p. ST.— Gross-Hofflnger, vcl. i., p. 116. DEATH THE LIBERATOR. 171 Memory was there to haunt her with mournful histories of her past life : pale, tearful, despairing were these ghosts of an existence un- checkered by one ray of happiness. Ah, with what a heart full of trembling hope had she entered the walls of this palace, which to her had proved a prisoner's cell ! With what rapture had she heard the approaching step of that high-born emperor, her husband, on their wedding-night ; and oh, how fearful and how swift had fallen the bolt of his vengeance upon her sin ! Memory whispered her of this. She thought of the Emperor Francis, of his tender sympathy with her sorrow ; she remembered how he had conspired with her on that fatal night at Innspruck. Then she remembered her hus- band's scorn, his withering insults, and her loss of consciousness. She thought how she had been found on the floor, and awakend by the terrifying intelligence of the emperor's sudden death. Her tears, her despair, she remembered all ; and her wail of sorrow at the loss of her kindest friend.* Memory whispered her of this. She thought of her dreary life from that day forward : forever the shrinking victim of Christina's sneers, because she, and not the sister of Albert of Saxony, had become the emperor's wife. Even the kind-hearted Maria Theresa had been cold to her ; even she, so loving, so affectionate, had never loved Josejjha. And the wretched woman thought how one day when the imperial family had dined together, and her entrance had been announced as that of "Her majesty, the reigning empress, " the archduchesses had sneered, and their mother had smiled in derision. Memory whispered her of this, t She thought how her poor, martyred heart had never been able to give up all hope of love and happiness ; how day by day she had striven, through humility and obedience, to appease lier husband's auger. But he had always repulsed her. One day she had resolved that he should see her. She knew that the emperor was in the daily habit of sitting on the balcony which divided her apartments fi'om his. She watched his coming, and went forward to meet him. But when he saw her, in spite of her tears and supplications, with a gesture of disgust, he left the balcony and closed the window that led to it. The next day, when she ventured a second time on the balcony, she found it separated by a high partition, shutting out all hojie of seeing her husband more. And she remembered how, one day afterward, when she stepped out upon it, and her husband be- came aware of her presence, he had, in sight of all the passers-by, started back into his room, and flung down his window with vio- lence, t Memory whispered her of this. But now that she had expiated her first fault by two years of bitter repentance, now that death was about to free him from her hated presence forever, surely he would have mercy, and forgive her the crime of having darkened his life by their unahppy union. Oh, that once more she could look into the heaven of those deep- blue eyes ! That once more before she died she could hear the music of that voice, which to her was like the harmony of angels' tongues ! In vain ! Ever came Van Swieten with the same cold message— "Tlie emperor cannot compromise the safety of his relatives." * Wraxall, vol. ii., pag:e 411. t Hubiier, " Life of .Joseph II. ," p. 27. j Caroline Pichler, "Memoirs," vol. i., p. 188. 172 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. At last, in the energy of despair, Josepha sat erect in her bed, and with her livid, bloody hands, wrote a letter which Van Swieten, at her earnest entreaty, delivered to the emperor. When, after a short absence, he returned with another denial, she gave such a shriek of anguish that it was heard throughout the palace. Van Swieten, overwhelmed by pity for the poor martyr, felt that he must make one more effort in her behalf. He could do nothing for her : bodily, she was beyond his power to heal ; but he was re- solved to be the physician of her broken heart, and, if it lay within the power of man, to soothe and comfort her dying moments. With the letter which Joseph had returned to him, he hastened to the Empress Maria Theresa. To her he pictured the agony of her dying daughter-in-law, and besought her to soften the emperor's heart. The empress listened with deep emotion to the long-tried friend of her house. Tears of sympathy gathered in her eyes, and fell over her pale cheeks. "Joseph will not grant her request, because he fears the infec- tion for usV" asked she. " Yes, your majesty, that is his pretext. " " He need not fear for me, and he can remain at a distance from the other members of the family, " said Maria Theresa. " But I know what are his real sentiments. He hates Josepha, and it is his hatred alone that prevents him from granting her petition. He has a hard, unforgiving heart ; he never will pardon his wife — not even when she lies cold in her grave. " "And she will not die until she has seen him. " returned Van Swieten, sadly. " It seems as if she had power to keep off death until the last aim of lier being has been reached. Oh, it is fearful to see a soul of such fire and resolution in a body alread}' decaying." The empress shuddered. " Come, Van Swieten, " said she, reso- lutely, " I know how to force Joseph to the bedside of his poor, dying wife." She rose, and would have gone to the door, but Van Swieten, all ceremony forgetting, held her back. "I will call the emperor myself," said he; "whither would your majestj'^ go?" " Do not detain me, " cried the empress, " I must go to the em- peror. " "But what then?" asked Van Swieten, alarmed. The empress, who had already crossed her anteroom, looked back with a countenance beaming with noble energy. "I will do my duty, " replied she. "I will do what Christian feeling prompts. I will go to Josepha." "No, your majesty, no, "cried Van Swieten, again laying hands upon his sovereign. " You owe it to your people and your children not to expose yourself to danger. " The empress smiled sadly. "Doctor, where did Isabella and Johanna take the infection? God called them to Himself, and God has shielded me. If it pleases Him that I also shall sulVer this fear- ful scourge, it will not be from contagion. It will be from His divine hand." " No, no, 5^oiu- majesty, it will be my fault, " cried Van Swieten. "On my head will be the sin." DEATH THE LIBERATOR. 173 "I free you from all responsibility, " replied she, "and say no more; for it is my duty to visit this deserted woman's death-bed. I have been less kind to her than I should have been, and less indul- gent than on my death-bed I will wish to have been. I have not been a tender mother to her, living — let me comfort her, at least, now that she is dying. " " But she has not asked for your majesty, " persisted Van SwieteiL " Wlierefore— " But suddenly he stopped, and a cry of horror was stifled between his lips. He had seen upon the forehead and cheeks of the empress those small, dark spots which revealed to his experienced eye that it was too late to shield her from infection. Maria Theresa was too excited to remark the j^aleness of Van Swieten. She continued : " Go to Joseph, and tell him that I await him at the death-bed of his wife. He will not dare refuse her now. Go, doctor, we must both do our duty. " Van Swieten stepped aside, for he had blocked the door. "Go, your majesty," said he, almost inaudibly. "I will not de- tain you, but will see the emperor. " He turned away, sick at heart. " One empress dying, and another ! — O God ! grant me help that I may save my beloved Maria Theresa !" Meanwliile the empress hurried through the deserted halls of the palace to the room of tlie unhappy Josepha. As she approached the door, she heard her voice in tones of bitterest anguish. The sound filled the heart of Maria Theresa with deepest sympathy and sorrow. For one moment she stood irresolute ; then, gathering all her strength, she opened the door, and went in. At the foot of the bed knelt two Ursuline nuns, those angels of mercy who are ever present to comfort the dying. The entrance of the empress did not inter- rupt their prayers. They knew that no one could rescue the dying woman ; they were praying Heaven to comfort her departing soul. But was she comforted? She ceased her lamentations, and now lay still. She had heard the door open, and had struggled to rise ; but she was too weak, and sank back with a groan. But she had seen the empress, who, with the courage of a noble spirit, had conquered her disgust, and advancing to the bed, bent over Josepha with a sweet, sad smile. Josepha saw it, and the empress looked more beautiful to her dying eyes than she had ever looked before. " God bless you, my poor daughter, " whispered she, in broken accents. "I come to give you a mother's blessing, and to beg of Almighty God to give you peace. " "Peace, peace!" echoed the sufferer, while the empress, with a shudder survej'ed her black and bloated face. Suddenly she uttered a cry, and opened her arms. " He comes ! he comes !" cried she ; and her dying eyes unclosed with a ray of joy- Yes, he came — he, whom she had so longed to see. When Van Swieten told him that the empress had gone to Josepha's room, he started from his seat, and hurried through the corridor with such wild speed that the physician had been unable to follow him. Hastily approaching the bed, he put his arms gently around his mother, and sought to lead her away. 174 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COUET. "Mother," said he, imploringly, "leave this room. It is my duty to be here, not yours. Bid adieu to the Empress Josepha, and go hence. " "Oh, oh!" groaned Josepha, falling back upon her pillow, "he does not come for my sake, but for his mother's. " " Yes, Josepha, " replied Joseph, " I am here for your sake also, and I shall remain with you. " "I also will remain," said Maria Theresa. "This sacred hour shall unite in love those who so long have been severed by error and misapprehension. Life is a succession of strivings to do well, and relapses into wrong. We feel that we have eiTed toward you, and we come with overflowing hearts to crave forgiveness. Forgive us, Josepha, as you hope to be forgiven !" "Forgive me also, Josepha, " said Joseph, with genuine emotion. " Let us part in peace. Forgive me my obduracy, as from my soul I forgive you. We have both been unhappy — " " No, " interrupted Josepha, " I have not been unhappy ; for I — I have loved. I die happy ; for he whom I love no longer turns ab- horrent from my presence. I shall die by the light of your pardon- ing smile. Death, that comes every moment nearer, death, to me, brings happiness. He comes with his cold kiss, to take my parting breath — the only kiss my lips have ever felt. He brings me love and consolation. He takes from my face the hideous mask which it has worn through life ; and my soul's beauty, in another world, shall win me Joseph's love. Oh death, the comforter ! I feel thy kiss. Farewell, Joseph, farewell !" "Farewell !" whispered Joseph and Maria Theresa. A fearful pause ensued — a slight spasm — a gasp — and all was over. "She is released!" said Van Swieten. "May her soul rest in peace !" The Ursulines intoned the prayers for the dead, and Maria Theresa, in tears, clasped her hands and faltered out the responses. Suddenly she reeled, heaved a sigh, and fell back in the emperor's arms. "My mother, my dear mother !" cried he, terrified. Van Swieten touched him lightly. " Do not arouse her. Yonder sleeps the one empress in death — her pains are past ; but this one, our beloved Maria Theresa, has yet to suffer. May God be merciful and spare lier life !" "Her life!" cried Joseph, turning pale. " Yes, her life, " said Van Swieten, solemnly. " The empress hag the small-pox. " * CHAPTER XLII. THE MIRROR. Six fearful weeks had gone by — six weeks of anxiety, suspense, and care, not only for the imperial family, but for all Austria. Like the liglitning's flash, intelligence had gone through the ♦The Empress Josepha died May 28, IVfiT, at the age of tweuty-nine years. Her body was so decayed by small-pox, that, before her death the tlesh tell from her in pieces. It was so completely decomposed, that it was impossible to pay it the cus- tomary funeral lionors. It was hurriedly wrapjX'd up in a linen cloth, and coffined. From these circumstances a rumor prevailed in Bavaria that she had uot died, but had been forced into a cloister by her husband. THE MIRROR. 175 land that the empress was in danger, and her subjects had lost in- terest in every thing except the bulletins issued from the palace where Van Swieten and Von Storck watched day and night by the bedside of their beloved sovereign. Deputations were sent to Vienna, sympathizing with the emperor, and the avenues to the palace were thronged with thousands of anxious faces, each waiting eagerly for the bulletins that came out four times a day. At last the danger passed away. Van Swieten slept at home, and the empress was recovering. She had recovered. Leaning on the arm of the emperor, and surrounded by her happy children, Maria Theresa left her widow's cell to take up her abode in the new and splendid apartments which, during her convalescence, Joseph had prepared for her reception. She thanked her son for his loving attention, so contrary to his usual habits of economy, and therefore so much the more a proof of his earnest desire to give pleasure to his mother. She, in her turn, sought to give strong expression to her gratitude, by admiring with enthusiasm all that had been done for her. She stopped to examine the costly Tiirkey carpets, the gorgeous Gobelin tapestries on the walls, the tables carved of precious woods, or inlaid with jewels and Florentine mosaic, the rich furniture covered with velvet and gold, the magnificent lustres of sparkling crystal, and the elegant trifles which here and there were tastefully disposed upon etageres or consoles. "Indeed, my son," cried the empress, surveying the beautiful suite, "you have decorated these rooms with the taste and prodi- gality of a woman. It adds much to my enjoyment of their beauty to think that all this is the work of your loving hands. But one thing has my princely son forgotten ; and tlierein he betrays his sex, showing that he is no woman, but in very truth a man." " Have I forgotten something, your majesty?" asked Joseph. " Yes ; something, my son, which a woman could never have overlooked. There are no mirrors in my splendid home." "No mirrors!" exclaimed Joseph, looking confused. "No — yes — indeed, your majesty is right, I had forgotten them. But I beg a thousand pardons for my negligence, and I will see that it is re- paired. I shall order the costliest Venetian mirrors to be made for these apartments. " While Joseph spoke, his mother looked earnestly at his blushing face, and perfectly divined both his embarrassment and its cause. She turned her eyes upon her daughters, who, with theirs cast dowTi, were sharing their brother's perplexity. " I must wait then until my mirrors are made, " said the empress, after a pause. "You must think that I have less than woman's vanity, my son, if you expect me to remain for weeks without a greeting from my looking-glass. Of course the small-pox has not dared to disfigure the face of an empress ; I feel secure against its sacrilegious touch. Is it not so, mjr little Marie Antoinette? Has it not respected your mother's comeliness?" The little archduchess looked frightened at the question, and timidly raised her large eyes. " My imperial mamma is as hand- some as ever she was, " said the child, in a trembling voice. " And she will always be handsome to us, should she live until old age shall have wrinkled her face and paled her cheeks, " cried Joseph warmly. " The picture of her youthful grace and beauty is 176 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. engi-aved upon our hearts, and nothing can ever remove it thence. To the eyes of her children a noble and beloved mother is always beautiful. " The empress said nothing in reply. She smiled affectionately upon her son, and inclining her head kindly to the others, retired to her sitting-room. She walked several times up and down, and finally approached her mirror. In accordance with an old supersti- tion, which pronounces it ill-luck to allow a looking-glass in the room of a sick person, this large mirror had been covered with a heavy silk curtain. The empress drew it back ; but instead of her looking-glass, she was confronted by a portrait of her late husband, the emperor. She uttered an exclamation of surprise and joy, and contemplated the picture with a happy smile. "God bless thee, my Franz, my noble emperor!" whispered she. "Thou art ever the same ; thy dear smile is unaltered, although I am no longer thy handsome bride, but a hideous and disfigured being, from whom my children deem it fit to conceal a looking-glass. Look at me with thy dear eyes, Franz ; thou wert ever my mirror, and in thy light have I seen my brightest day of earthly joy. My departed beauty leaves me not one pang of regret, since thou art gone for whom alone I prized it. Maria Theresa has cease . to be a woman — she is nothing more than a sovereign, and what to her are the scars of the small- pox? But I must see what I look like," said she, dropping the cur- tain. "I will show them that I am not as foolish as they imagine." She took up her little golden bell and rang. The door of the next room opened, and Charlotte von Hieronymus entered. The empress smiled and said : " It is time to make my toilet. I will dine to-day en famille with the emperor, and I must be dressed. Let us go into my dressing-room." The maid of honor courtesied and opened the door. Every thing there was ready for the empress. The tire-woman, the mistress of the wardrobe, the maids of honor were all at their posts ; and Charlotte hastened to take her place behind the large arm-chair in which the emjjress was accustomed to have her hair dressed. But Maria Theresa saw that she had not been expected in her dressing-room, for her cheval-glass was encumbered with shawls, dresses, and cloaks. She took her seat, smilingly saying to herself, " I shall see myself now, face to face. " Cliarlotte i)assed the comb through the short hair of the empress, and sighed as she thought of the otifering that had been laid in the emperor's coflSn ; while the otlier maids of honor stood silent around. Maria Tlieresa, usually so familiar and talkative at this hour, spoke not a word. She looked sharply at tlie cheval-glass, and began carelessly, and as if by cliance, to remove with her foot, the dresses that encumbered it ; then, as if ashamed of her artifice, she sud- denly rose from the chair, and with an energetic gesture unbared the mirror. No mirror was there ! Nothing greeted the empress's eyes save the empty frame. She turned a reproachful glance upon the little coiffense. Charlotte fell upon her knees, and looked imploringly at the em- press. "It is my fault, your majesty," said she, blushing and tembling ; "I alone am the culprit. Pardon my maladroitness, I pray you?" "What do you mean, child?" asked the empress. THE MIRROR. 177 "I — I broke the looking-glass, your majesty. I stumbled over it in the dark, and shivered it to pieces. I am very, very awkward — I am very sorry. " "What! You overturned this heavy mirror!" said Maria Theresa. " If so, there must have been a fearful crash. How comes it that I never heard any thing— I who for six weeks have been ill in the adjoining room?" "It happened just at the time when your majesty was delirious with fever ; and — " "And this mirror has been broken for three weeks !" said Maria Theresa, raising her eyebrows and looking intently at Charlotte's blushing face. "Three weeks ago ! I think you might have had it replaced, Charlotte, by this time ; hey, child?" Charlotte's eyes sought the floor. At length she stammered, in a voice scarcely audible, "Please your majesty, I could not suppose that you would miss the glass so soon. You have made so little use of mirrors since — " " Enough of this nonsense, " interrupted the empress. " You have been well drilled, and have played your part with some talent, but don't imagine that I am the dupe of all this pretty acting. Get up, child ; don't make a fool of yourself, but put on my crape cap for me, and then go as quickly as you can for a looking-glass." " A looking-glass, your majesty ?" cried Charlotte in a frightened voice. " A looking-glass, " repeated the empress emphatically. " I have none, your majesty. " " Well, then, " said Maria Theresa, her patience sorely tried by all this, " let some one with better eyes than yours look for one. Go, Sophie, and bid one of the pages bring me a mirror from my old apartments below. I do not suppose that there has been a general crashing of all the mirrors in the palace. In a quarter of an hour I shall be in my sitting-room. At the end of that time the mirror must be there. Be quick, Sophie ; and you, Charlotte, finish the combing of my hair. There is but little to do to it now, so dry your tears. " "Ah !" whispered Charlotte, "I would there were more to do. I cannot help crying, your majesty when I see the ruins of that beautiful hair. " "And yet, poor child, you have spent so many weary hours over it," replied the empress. "You ought to be glad that your delicate little hands are no longer obliged to bear its weight.— Charlotte," said she suddenly. "you have several times asked for your dismissal. Now, you shall have it, and you shall marry your lover, Counsellor Greiner. I myself will give you away, and bestow the dowry. " _ The grateful girl pressed the hand of the empress to her lips, while she whispered words of love and thanks. Maria Theresa smiled, and took her seat, while Charlotte com- pleted her toilet. Match-making was the empress's great weakness, and she was in high spirits over the prospect of marrying Charlotte. The simple mourning costume was soon donned, and the empress rose to leave her dressing-room. As she passed the empty frame of the Psyche, she turned laughing toward her maid of honor. "I give you this mirror, Charlotte," said she. "If the glass is really broken, it shall be replaced by the costliest one that Venice can produce. It will be to you a souvenir of your successful debut as 178 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. an actress on this day. You have really done admirably. But let lue tell you one thing, my child," continued Maria Theresa, taking Charlotte's hand in hers. "Never be an actress with your husband ; but let your heart be reflected in all your words and deeds, as yon- der mirror will give back the truthful picture of your face. Let all be clear and bright in your married intercourse ; and see that no breath of deception ever cloud its surface. Take this wedding-gift, aud cherish it as a faithful monitor. Truth is a light that comes to us from Heaven ; let us look steadily at it, for evil as well as for good. This is the hour of my trial — no great one— but still a trial. Let me now look at truth, and learn to bear the revelation it is about to make." She opened the door, and entered her sitting-room. Her com- mands had been obeyed ; the mirror was in its place. She advanced with resolute step, but as she approached the glass her ej'es were in- stinctively cast down, until she stood directly before it. The de- cisive moment had arrived ; she was to see — whatv Slowly her eyes were raised, and she looked. She uttered a low cry, and started back in horror. She had seen a strange, scarred, empurpled face, whose colorless lips and hard features had filled her soul with loathing. But with all the strength of her In-ave and noble heart, Maria Theresa overcame the shock, and looked again. She forced her eyes to contemplate the fearful image that confronted her once beautiful face, and long and earnestly she gazed upon it. " Well, " said she at last, with a sigh, " I must make acquaintance with this caricature of my former self. I must accustom myself to the mortifying fact that this is Maria Theresa, or I might some of these days call for a page to drive out that hideous old crone ! I must learn, too, to be resigned, for it is the hand of my heavenly Father that has covered my face with this grotesque mask. Since He lias thought fit to deprive me of my beauty, let His divine will be done. " For some moments slie remained silent, still gazing intently at tlie mirror. Finally a smile overspread her entire countenance, and she nodded at the image in the glass. " Well ! you ugly old woman, " said she aloud, " we have begun our acquaintance. Let us be good friends. I do not intend to make one effort to lessen your ugliness by womanly art; I must seek to win its pardon from the world by noble deeds and a well-spent life. Perhaps, in future days, when my subjects lament my homeliness, they may add that nevertheless I was a good, and — well ! in this hour of humiliation we may praise one another, I think — perchance a great .sovereign." Here the empress turned from the mirror and crossing over to the spot where the emperor's portrait hung, she continued her solilo- quy. "But Franz, dear Franz, you at least are spared the sight of your Theresa's transformation. I could not have borne this as I do, if you had l)i'cn here to witness it. Now! what matters it? My people will not remind me of it, and my children have already promised to love me, and forgive my deformity. Sleep, then, my beloved, until I rejoin you in heaven. There, the mask will fall for me, as for poor Jose^jilia, and there we shall be glorified and happy." The empress tlicn returncMl to the dressing-room, where her attendants, anxious and unliappy, awaited her reappearance. What THE INTERVIEW WITH KAUNITZ. 179 was their astonishment to see her tranquil and smiling, not a trace of discontent upon her countenance ! " Lot the steward of the household be apprised that I will have mirrors in all my apartments. Thej" can be hung at once, and may be replaced by those which the emperor has ordered, whenever they arrive from Venice. Let my page Gustavus repair to Cardinal Migazzi and inform him that to-morrow I make my public thanks- giving in the catliedral of St. Stephen. I shall go on foot and in the midst of my people, that they may see me and know that I am not ashamed of the judgments of God. Let Prince Kaunitz be advised that on to-morrow, after the holy sacrifice, I will receive him here. Open my doors and windows, and let us breathe the free air of heaven. I am no longer an invalid, my friends ; I am strong, and ready to begin life anew. " CHAPTER XLIII. THE INTERVIEW WITH KAUNITZ. From earliest morning the streets of Vienna had been thronged by a joyous multitude, eagerly awaiting the sight of their restored sovereign. All Viejina had mourned when the empress lay ill ; all Vienna now rejoiced that she had recovered. Maria Theresa's road to the church was one long triumph — the outpouring of the sincere love which filled the hearts of her subjects. The empress had done nothing to coixrt this homage ; for the notice given to the cardinal had been as short as it possibly could be ; but the news of the thanks- giving had flown from one end of Vienna to the other ; and every corporation and society, the students of every college, and every citizen that was at liberty to leave home, flocked to congratulate the well- beloved sovereign. The streets through which she had to pass were lined with people bearing flags, banners, and emblems, while near them stood the children of the educational and orphan asylums, which had been endowed by the munificence of the empress. Lofty and lowly, rich and poor, stood in friendly contact with each other ; even the nobles, imitating Maria Theresa's aff'ability, mixed smiling and free among the people. All sense of rank and station seemed lost in the universal joy of the hour. The bells chimed, and the people rent the air with shouts ; for this was the signal of the empress's sortie from the palace, and her people knew that slie was coming to meet them. At last they saw her ; leaning on the arm of the emperor, and followed by her other children, she came, proud and resolute as ever. It was a beautiful sight, this empress with her ten lovely sons and daughtei's, all joy- ful and smiling, as like siniple subjects they walked through the streets toward the church, to tliank God for her recovery. Inexpressible joy beamed from Maria Theresa's eyes — those superb eyes whose light the small-pox conld not quench. Her great and noble soul looked out from their azure depths, and her head seemed encircled by a glory. In this hovr she was no "ugly old crone," she was the happy, proud, triumphant empress, who in the eyes of her people was both beautiful and beloved. For the moment her widow's sorrows were forgotten ; and when surrounded by so many loyal hearts, she sank on her knees before the altar of St. 180 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. Stephen, she thanked God for the joy of this hour, and made a vow that her whole life should be devoted to the welfare of the people who on this day had given her so touching a welcome. Exhausted not only by emotion, but by the heat of the Julj^ sun which shone on her head as she returned, the empress at last reached her own rooms. Her tire-women hastened to relieve her of her coverings and to dry her moistened hair and face. But she waved them back. ''No, no, my friends, let me refresh myself in my own way. The air is more skilful than your hands, and is softer than your napkins. Open the doors and the windows, and place my arm-chair in the middle of the room. " " But, your majesty, " remonstrated one of the maids of honor, "you forget your condition. The draught will do you injury." " I do not know what such fastidious peojjle mean by a draught, " replied the empress, laughing and taking her seat; "Ijut I know that the good God has sent this air from heaven for man's enjoy- ment ; and when I feel its cool kiss upon my cheek, I think that God is nigh. I have always loved to feel the breath of my Creator, and therefore it is that I have always been strong and healthy. See ! see ! how it blows away my mantle ! You are right, sweet summer wind, I will throw the burden away. " She let fall her mantle, and gave her bare shoulders to the wind, enjoying the breeze, and frightening her maids of honor out of their propriety. '• Now, let me have some refreshment, " cried she. Away sped two or three of the ladies, each one anxious to escape from the gust that was driving every thing before it in the empress's rooms. A page brought in a tray, and there, in the centre of the room, the empress, although yet overheated, ate a plate of strawberries, and drauk a glass of lemonade, cooled in ice.* She was interrupted, in the midst of all this comfort, by another page, who announced Prince Kaunitz. Maria Theresa rose hastily from her seat. "Shut all the doors and windows," exclaimed she, " do not let him scent the dravight. " f Wliile her orders were being obeyed, she looked around to con- vin(;e heiself that every avenue was closed through which the wind might penetrate, and that done, she ordered the door to be thrown open, and tlie prince admitted. Prince Kaunitz approached with his usual serious and tranquil demeanor. He bowed low, and said : " I congratulate your majesty and tlie Austrian empire, upon your happy recovery. I, who liave no fear of any other enemy, have trembled before this deadly foe of your imperial house. For all other dangers we have craft and valor ; but against this one no bravery or statesmanship can avail." "But skill lias availed ; and to Van Swieten, uuder Providence, lam indebted for my life, " cried tlie empress, warmly. "I know, Kaunitz, that you have l)ut little faith in heavenly or earthly physi- cians ; and I pray God that you may never acquire it through the bitter experience of such suffer ing as I have but lately endured ! * Caroline Pichler, " Memoirs.'" vol. i., pp. 18, 19. Maiia Theresa siippoi-ted without pain e.xtreirie degrees of heat and eold. Summer and winter her windows stood oiJen, and often the snow-flakes have been seen to fall upon her escritoire while she ■wrote. In winter, the Emperor Joseph always came into his mother's rooms wrapped in furs. tWraxall, vol. ii., p. 380. THE INTERVIEW WITH KAUNITZ. 181 Often during my sleepless nights I have longed for a sight of your grave face, and it grieved nie to think that perchance we might never meet again to talk of Austria, and plan for Austria's welfare." "But I knew that your majesty would recover," said Kaunitz, with unusual warmth ; " I knew it, for Austria cannot spare you, and as long as there is work for you here below, your strong mind will bid defiance to death. " Maria Theresa colored with pleasure. It was so seldom that Kaunitz gave utterance to such sentiments, that his praise was reaUj' worth having. "You think, then, that Austria needs me?" said she. " I do, indeed, your majesty. " "But if God had called me to Himself, what would you have done?" " I would still have labored, as in duty bound, for my country ; but I would have owed a lifelong grudge to Providence for its want of wisdom. " "You are a scoffer, Kaunitz," said the empress. "Your Creator is very merciful to allow you time to utter the unchristian senti- ments which are forever falling from your lips. But God sees tlie heart of man, and He knows that yours is better than your words. Since the loving, all-suffering Lord forgives you, so will I. But tell me, how has my empire fared during these six long weeks?" "Well, your majesty. Throughout the day I worked for myself, throughout the night for you, and nothing is behindliand. Each day adds to our internal strength, that gives us consideration abroad, and soon we shall hold our own as one of the four great European powers, mightier than in the days when the sun never set upon Austrian realms. The empire of Charles V. was grand, but it was not solid. It resembled a reversed pyramid, in danger of being crushed by its own weight. The pyramid to-day is less in size, but greater in base and therefore firmer in foundation.* Strength does not depend so much upon size as upon proportion ; and Austria, although her territory has been vaster, has never been so truly powerful as she is in this, the reign of your majesty." "If Silesia were but ours again! As for Naples and Alsatia, they were never more than disjecta membra of our empire ; and they were always less profit than trouble. But Silesia is ours— ours by a common ancestry, a common language, and the strong tie of affec- tion. I shall never recover from the blow that I received when I lost Silesia. " " We shall have restitution some of these days, your majesty, " said Kaunitz. "Do you mean to say that I shall ever recover Silesia?" asked the empress, eagerly. "From the King of Prussia? No — never! He holds fast to his possessions, and his sharp sword would be unsheathed to-morrow, were w^e to lay the weight of a finger upon his right to Silesia. Bat we shall be otherwise revenged, in the day when we shall feel that we have attained the noontide of our power and strength. " " You do not intend to propose to me a war of aggression !" said the empress, shocked. " No, your majesty, but if we should see two eagles tearing to pieces a lamb which is beyond hope of rescue, our two-headed eagle * " Letters of a French Traveller," vol. i. , p. 431. 182 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. must swoop down upon tlie robbers, and demand his share of the booty. I foresee evil doings among oiir neighbors. Catharine of Russia is bold and unscrupulous ; Frederick of Prussia knows it, and he already seeks the friendship of Russia, that he may gain an accomplice as well as an allj*. " " God forbid that I sliould follow in the wake of the King of Prussia!" cried Maria Theresa. "Never will I accept, much less seek an alliance with this cruel woman ; wliose throne is blood- stained and whose heart is dead to every sentiment of womanly virtue and honor !" " Yoiu- majesty need have no intercourse with the woman ; you have only to confer with the sovereign of a powerful neighboring empire. " "Russia is not a neighboring empire," exclaimed the empress. "On one occasion I wrote to the Empress Elizabeth, 'I will always be your friend, but with my consent you shall never be my neigh- bor. ' * Poland lies between Russia and Austria. " "Yes," said Kaunitz, with one of his meaning smiles, "but how long will Poland divide us from Russia?" "Man!" exclaimed Maria Theresa with horror, "you do not surely insinuate that we would dare to lay a hand upon Poland ?" "Not we, but the Empress of Russia will — " "Impossible! impossible! She dare not do it^" Kaunitz shrugged his shoulders. ^'^ Dare, your majesty? Some things we dare not attempt because they are difficult ; others are difficult because we dare not attempt them, f The Empress of Russia dares do any thing ; for she knows how to take things easily, and believes in her own foresight. Despots are grasping, and Catharine is a great despot. We must make haste to secure her good-will, that when the time comes we may all understand one another." " I !" exclaimed the empress, " I should stoop so low as to seek the good- will of this wicked empress, who moimted her throne upon the dead body of her luisband, while her lovers stood by, their hands reeking with tlie blood of the murdered emperor 1 Oh, Kaunitz ! you woidd never ;isk me to do this thing?" " Your majesty is great enough to sacrifice your personal antipa- thies to the good of your country. Your majesty once condescended to write to Farinelli, and tJia't act won us the friendship of the King of Spain and of liis sons ; tJiat letter will be the means of plac- ing an Archducliess of Austria on the tlirone of Naples." "Would have been," said Maria Theresa, heaving a sigh. "The bride of the King of Naples is no more ! My poor Johaima ! My beautiful child !" "But the Archduchess Joseplia lives, and I had intended to pro- pose to j'our majesty to accept tlie luuid of the King of Naples for her liighness. " "Is the house of Naples then so desirous of our alliance that it has already offered its lieir to another one of my daugliters? I am sorry tliat we shoidd be obliged to acce|)t, for I have lieard of late tliat tlie king is an illiterate and trifling fellow, scarcely betttn- than tlie lazzaroni wlio are his chosen associates. Josepha will not be haj)f)y with such a man." " Your majesty, her liighness does not many the young igno- * Ilistorical. t Kauuitz's own words. Hormayer, "Plutarch," vol. xii., p. 271. THE INTERVIEW WITH KAUNITZ. 183 ramus who, to be sure, knows neither how to read nor write — she marries the King of Naples ; and surely if any thing can gracefully conceal a man's faults, it is the purple mantle of royalty." "I will give my child to this representative of royalty, " said Maria Theresa sadly, " but I look upon her as a victim of expediency. If she is true to her God and to her spouse, I must be content, even though, as a woman, Josepha's life will be a blank. " " And this alliance, " said Kaunitz, still pursuing the object fur which he was contending, "this marriage is the result of one letter to Farinelli. Your majesty once condescended to write to La Pom- padour. That letter won the friendship of France, and its fruits will be the marriage of the Archduchess Marie Antoinette, and her elevation to the throne of France. Your majesty sees then what important .results have sprung from two friendly letters which my honored sovereign has not disdained to write. Surely when wise statesmanship prompts your majesty to indite a third letter to the Empress of Russia, you will not refuse its counsels and suggestions. The two first letters were worth to us two thrones ; the third may chance to be worth a new province. " "A new province!" exclaimed the empress, coming closer to Kaunitz, and in her eagerness laying her hand upon his shoulder. "Tell me— what wise and wicked stratagem do you hatch within your brain to-day?" "My plans, so please your majesty, " said the prince, raising hie eyes so as to meet those of the empress, " my plans are not of to-day. They—" But suddenly he grew dumb, and gazed horror-stricken at the face of Maria Theresa. Kaunitz was short-sighted, and up to this moment he had remained in ignorance of the fearful change that had forever transformed the empress's beauty into ugliness. The discovery had left him speechless. "Weir?" cried the empress, not suspecting the cause of his sud- den silence. " You have not the courage to confide your plans to me? They must be dishonorable. If not, in the name of Heaven, speak !" The prince answered not a word. The shock had been too great ; and as he gazed upon that scarred and blotched face, once so smooth, fair, and beautiful, his presence of mind forsook him, and his diplo- macy came to naught. " Forgive me, your majesty, " said he, as pale and staggering he retreated toward the door. "A sudden faintness has come over me, and every thing swims before my vision. Let me entreat your per- mission to retire. " Without awaiting the empress's reply, he made a hasty bow, and fled from the room. The empress looked after him in utter astonishment. "What has come over the man ?" said she to herself. " He looks as if he had seen a ghost ! Well— I suppose it is nothing more than a fit of eccentricity. " And she flung back her head with a half-disdainful smile. But as she did so, her eyes lit accidentally upon the mirror, and she saw her own image reflected in its briglit depths. She started ; for she had already forgotten the " ugly old woman whom she had apostrophized on the day previous. Suddenly she burst into a peal of laughter, and cried out, "No wonder poor 13 184 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. Kaunitz looked as if he had seen something horrible ! He SAW me — and I am the Medusa that turned him into stone. Poor, short- sighted man ! He had been in blissful ignorance of my altered looks until I laid my hand upon his shoulder. I must do something to heal the wound I have inflicted. I owe him more than I can well repay. I will give him a brilliant decoration, and that will be a cure-all ; for Kaunitz is very vain and very fond of show." While the empress was writing the note which was to accompany her gift, Kavmitz, with his handkerchief over his mouth, was dash- ing through the palace corridors to his carriage. With an impa- tient gesture he motioned to his coachman to drive home with all speed. Not with his usual stateliness, but panting, almost running, did Kaunitz traverse the gilded halls of his own palace, which were open to-day in honor of the empress's recovery, and were already festive with the sound of the guests assembling to a magnificent dinner which was to celebrate the event. Without a word to the Countess Clary, who came forward elegantly attired for the occasion, Kaunitz flew to his study, and sinking into an arm-chair, he cov- ered his face with his hands. He felt as if he had been face to face with death. That was not his beautiful, majestic, superb Maria Theresa ; it was a frightful vision — a messenger from the grave, that forced upon his unwilling mind the dreadful futurity tliat awaits all who are born of woman. "Could it be? Was this indeed the empress, whose beauty had intoxicated her subjects, as drawing from its sheath the sword of St. Stephen, she held it flashing in the sun, and called upon them to defend her rights? Oh, could it be that this woman, once beautiful as 01ym])ian Juno, had been ti-ansformed into such a caricature?" A thrill of pain darted through the whole frame of the prince, and he did what since his mother's death he had never done — he wept. But gradually he overcame his grief, the scanty fountain of his tears dried up, and he resumed his cold and habitual demeanor. For a long time he sat motionless in his chair, staring at the wall that was opposite. Finally he moved toward his escritoire and took up a pen. He began to write instructions for the use of his secretaries. They were never to pronounce in his presence the two words DEATH and SMALL-POX. If those words ever occurred in any correspond- ence or official pajjer that was to come before his notice, they were to be erased. Those who presented themselves before the prince were to be warned that these fearful words must never pass their lips in iiis presence. A secretary was to go at once to the Countess Clary, that slie might prepare tlie guests of the prince, and caution them against tiie use of tlu^ offensive words.* Wlien Kaunitz liad (^omjiUited these singular instructions, he rang, and gave the paper to a i)age. As he did so, a servant entered with a letter and a i)ackage from her majesty the emjn-ess. The package contained the grand cross of the order of St. Stephen, but instead of tiie usual symbol, tlie cross was composed of costly brilliants. The letter was in the empress's own hand— a worthy answer to the " instructions" which Kaunitz was in the act of sending to his secretaries. ♦Hormayer, " Austriau Plutarch," vol. xii., p. 274. THE ARCHDUCHESS JOSEPHA. 185 The empress wrote as follows : " I send you the grand cross of St. Stephen ; but as a mark of distinction you must wear it in brilliants. You have done so much to dignify it, that I seize with eagerness the opportunity which presents itself to offer you a tribute of that gratitude which! feel for your services, and shall continue to feel until the day of my death. * "Maria Theresa." CHAPTER XLIV. THE ARCHDUCHESS JOSEPHA. The plan of the empress and her prime minister approached their fulfilment ; Austria was about to contract ties of kindred with her powerful neighbors. Maria Theresa liad again consented to receive the King of Naples as her son-in-law, and he was the affianced husband of the arch- duchess Josepha. The palace of Lichtenstein, the residence of the Neapolitan ambassador was, in consecjueuce of the betrothal, the scene of splendid festivities, and in the imperial palace preparations were making for the approaching nuptials. They were to be solem- nized on the fifteenth of October, and immediately after the cere- mony the yoiuig bride was to leave Vienna for Naples. Every thing was gayety and bustle ; all were deep in consultation over dress and jewels ; and the great topic of court conversation was the 2?(i'f'ure of brilliants sent by the King of Spain, whose sur- passing magnificence had called forth an expresson of astonishment from the lips of the empress herself. The trousseau of the ai-chduchess was exposed in the apartments which had once been occupied by the enipress and lier husband ; and now Maria Theresa, followed by a bevy of wondering young archduchesses, was examining her daughter's princely wardrobe, that with her own eyes she might be sure that nothing was wanting to render it worthy of a queen-elect. The young girls burst into exclamations of rapture when they apjjroached the table where, in its snowy purity, lay the bridal dress of white velvet, embroidered with pearls and diamonds. "Oh!" cried little Marie Antoinette, while she stroked it with her pretty, rosy hand, "oh, my beautiful Josepha, you will look like an angel, when you wear this lovely white dx-ess. " "Say rather, like a queen, " returned Josepha, smiling. "When a woman is a queen, she is sure to look like an angel in the eyes of the world. " "It does not follow, however, that because she is a queen, she shall be as happy as an angel, " remarked the Archduchess Maria Amelia, who was beti'othed to the Duke of Parma. " Nevertheless, I would rather be the unhappy queen of an im- portant kingdom than the happy wife of a poor little prince, " re- plied Josepha, as, raising her superb diadem of brilliants, she advanced to a mirror and placed it upon her brow. " Do you think, " asked she proudly, "that I can be very miserable while I wear these starry gems upon my forehead ? Oh no ! If it were set with thorns * Wraxall, vol. ii., p. 479. 186 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. that drew my blood, I would rather wear this royal diadem than the light coronet of an insignificant duchess." "And I," exclaimed Amelia, "would rather wear the ring of a beggar than be the wife of a king who neither reads nor writes, and throughout all Europe is known by the name of a lazzarone. " "Before wliom millions of subjects must, nevertheless, bend the knee, and who, despite of all, is a powerful and wealthy monarch, " I'eturned Josepha, angrily. " That is, if his master, the Marquis Tannucci allows it, " cried the Archduchess Caroline, laughing. "For you know very well, Josepha, that Tannvicci is the king of your lazzaroni-king, and when he behaves amiss, puts him on his knees for pimishmeut. Now when you are his wife, you can go and comfort him in dis- grace, and kneel down in tlie corner by his side. How interesting it will be !" Upon this the Archduchess Amelia began to laugh, while her sisters joined in — all except IMarie Antoinette, who with an expres- sion of sympathy, turned to Josepha. "Do not mind them, my Josepha," said she; "if your king can not read, j"ou can teach him, and he will love you all the better, iind in spite of every thing, you will be a happy queen in the end. " "I do not mind them, Antoinette," returned Josepha, her eyes flashing with anger, "for I well know that they are envious of my prosperity, and would willingly supplant me. But my day of retali- ation will come. It will be that on which my sisters shall be forced to acknowledge the rank of the Queen of Naples, and to yield her precedence !" A burst of indignation would have been the reply to these haughty words, had the Archduche.^s Caroline not felt a hand upon her shoulder, and heard a voice which commanded silence. The empress, who, at the beginning of this spicy dialogue, had been absent on her survey in a neighboring apartment, had returned, and had heard Josepha's last words. Shocked and grieved, she came forv. ard, and stood in the midst of her daughters. "Peace!" exclaimed the imperial mother. "I have heard such words of arrogance fall from your lips as nuist be expiated by hum- ble petition to your Creator. Sinful creatures are Ave all, whether we be princesses or peasants ; and if we dare to lift our poor heads in pride of birth or station, God will surely ])unish us. With a breath He overturns the sceptres of kings — with a breath He hurls our crowns to earth, imtil, cowering at His feet, we acknowledge our unworlitliiiH'ss. It becomes a queen to remember that she is a mortal, jjowerlcss without the grace of God to do one good action, and wearing under the purple of royalty the tattered raiment of humanity. But it is these absurd vanities that have stirred up the demon of pride in your hearts," continued the empress, giving a disdainful toss to the velvet Avedding-dress ; "let us leave these wretched gew-gaws and betake ourselves to the purer air of our own rooms. " She waved her hand, and motioning to her daugliters, they fol- lowed her, silent and ashamed. All had their eyes cast down, and none saw the tears thnt now fell like rain from Josepha's eyes. She was thoroughly mortified and longed to escape to her room ; but as slie bent lier liead to take leave of the empress, the latter motioned her to remain. THE ARCHDUCHESS JOSEPHA. 187 "I have as yet a few words to speak with you, my daughter, " said Maria Tlieresa, as she closed the door of her dressing-room. "Your haughty couduct of this day lias reminded me that you have a sacred duty to perform. The vanities of the world will have less weight with you when you return from the graves of yovu* ancestors. Go to the imperial vault, and learn from tlie ashes of the emperors and empresses who sleep there, the notliingness of all worldly splen- dor. Kjieel down beside your dear father's tomb, and pray for humility. Tell him to pra}^ for me, Josepha, for my crown weighs heavily upon luy brow, and I fain would be at rest. " Joseplia made no answer. She stared at her mother with an ex- pression of horror an incredulity, as though she meant to ask if she iiad heard her words aright. "Well, my daughter !" cried Maria Theresa, surprised at Josepha 's silence. "Why do you linger? Go — go, child, and recalling the sins of your life, beg pardon of God, and the blessing of your de- ceased father. " "Give me that blessing yourself, dear mother," faltered the princess, clasping her hands, and looking imploringly at the empress. "My father's spirit is here, it is not in that fearful vault. " The empress started. " I cannot believe, " said she, with severity, " that my daughter has cause to tremble before the ashes of her father. The guilty alone fear death ; innocence is never afraid !" "Oh, mother, mother ! I have no sin upon my soul, and yet I—" "And yet, " echoed the empress as Josepha paused. "And yet I shiver at the very thought of going thither," said the archduchess. " Yes, your majesty, I shiver at the thought of encoun- tering the black coffins and mouldering skeletons of my forefathers. Oh, mother, have pity on my youth and cowardice ! Do not force me to that horrid place !" " I have no right to exempt you from the performance of this sacred duty, Josepha, " replied the empress firmly. " It is a time- honored custom of our family, that the princesses of Austria, who marry kings, should take leave of the graves of their ancestors. I canouot release the Queen of Naples from her duty. She is to wear the ci'own, she must bear the cross. " " But I dread it ! I dread it so !" murmured Josepha. " I shudder at the thought of Josepha's corpse. I never loved her, and she died without forgiving me. Oh, do not force me to go alone in the presence of the dead !" " I command you to go into the vavilt where repose the holy ashes of your fathers, " repeated the empress sternly. " Bend your lofty head, my daughter, and throw yourself with humility upon the graves of your ancestors, there to learn the vanity of all human greatness and human power. " " Mercy, mercy !" cried the terrified girl. " I cannot, I cannot obey your dreadful behest. " "Who dares say 'I cannot, ' when duty is in question?" exclaimed the empress. "You are my daughter and my subject still, and I will see whether you intend to defy my authority. " So saying, she rose and rang her little golden bell. "The car- riage of the Archduchess Josepha, "' said siie to the page who answered the summons. " Let a courier be dispatched to the Capuchin fathers to inforpi them that in a quarter of an hour the princess will visit the imperial vault. Now, princess, " continued the empress as the 188 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. page left the room, "you will not surely have the hardihood to say again, 'I cannot?'" "No," faltered Josepha, "I will obey. But one thing I must ask. Does your majesty wish to kill me V" "What do you mean, child?" " I mean that I will die, if you force me to this vault, " replied Josepha, pale as death. "I feel it in the icy chill that seizes my heart even now. I tell you, mother, that I will die, if you send me to the fearful place wliere Josepha's corpse infects the air with its death-mould. Do you still desire that I shall go?" "You need not seek to frighten me, Josepha; stratagem will avail you nothing," replied the empress, coldly. "It is not given to mi^rtals to know the hour of their death, and I cannot allow my- self to be influenced by such folly. Go, my cliild, there is nothing to fear ; tlie spirits of your forefathers will shield you from harm," added she kindly. " I go, " replied Josepha ; " but my mother has sentenged me to death. " She bent her head and left the room. The empress looked after her daughter as she went, and a sudden pang shot through her heart. She felt as though slie could not let her go — she felt as if she viust call her back, and pressing her to her heart, release her from the or- deal which tried her young soul so fearfully. Just then the princess, who had reached the door, turned her large dark eyes with another look of entreaty. This was enough to restore tlie empress to her self-possession. She would not call her back. She saw rather than heard the trembling lips that strove to form a last appeal for mercy, and the graceful figure vanished. When she was out of sight, all the tendei'ness, all the anxiety of the empress returned. She rushed forward, then suddenly sood still and shaking her head, she murmured, "No! no! It would be un- pardonable weakness. I cannot yield. She must go to the grave of her fathers. " CHAPTER XLV. THE DEPARTURE. The messenger had returned, the carriage waited, and Josepha had no longer a pretext for delaying her visit to the vault. She must obey her mother's behest — she 7nust perform the horrible pil- grimage ! Pale and speechless she suffered her attendants to throw her mantle around her, and then, as if in obedience to some invisible phantom that beckoned lier on, she rose from her seat and advanced rigidly to the door. Suddenly sh<' paused, and, turning to her maid of honor, she said, " Be so kind as to call my sister Antoinette, I must bid her farewell." A few moments elapsed, when the door opened and the Arch- duchess Marie Antoinette flew into her sister's arms. Josei^ha pressed licr closely to lier heart. "I could not go, my darling," whispered she, "without once more seeing you. Let me look, for the last time, upon that sweet face, and those bright eyes that are lit u]) with the blue of heaven. Kiss me, dear, and promise not to forget me. " THE DEPARTURE. 189 "I can never forget, never cease to love you, sister," replied the child, returning Josepha's caresses. " But why do you say farewell? Why are you crying? Are you going to leave us already for that young king who is to take you away from us? Oh, Josepha, how can you love a man wliom you have never seen?" " I do not love the King of Naples, dear child, " said Josepha, sadly. "Oh, Antoinette ! would you could understand my sorrows !" "Speak, dear sister, " I'eplied Antoinette, tenderly. "Am I not twelve years old, and does not the Countess Lerchenfeld tell nie, every time I do wrong, that I am no longer a child? Tell me, then, what grieves you? I will keep your secret, I promise you." •■ I weep, " said Josepha, " because it is so sad to die before one has known the happiness of living." "Die!" exclaimed Antoinette, turning pale. "AVhy do you speak of dying, you who are about to become a queen?" " I shall never live to be a queen, mj' sister. The empress has commanded me to visit the imperial vault. I go thither to-day ; in a few days I shall be carried thither, never to return.* Farewell, Antoinette ; I leave you to-daj', but I leave you for the grave. " " No, no, no !" screamed the child. " You shall not go. I will throw myself at the feet of the empress, and never rise until she has released you, dear sister." "Have you yet to learn that the empress never retracts her words? It is useless. I must go, and my death-warrant is signed." " It shall not be !" cried Antoinette, beside herself with grief. "Wait dear, Josepha, until I return. I go to obtain your release." "What can you say to the empress, my poor little one?" "I will beg for mercy, and if she will not listen, I shall rise and tell her fearlessly, 'Your majesty, Josepha says that you have sen- tenced her to death. No mortal has power over the life of an im- perial princess ; God alone has that power. My sister must not go into the vault, for if she does, she dies, and that by your hand. '" And as the child spoke these words, she threw back her head, and her eyes darted fire. She looked like her mother. "I see, Antoinette," said Josepha, with a smile, "that you would not submit tamely to death. You have a brave soul, my little sister, and will know how to struggle against misfortune. But I— I have no spirit, I can only suffer and obey ; and before I die, I must open my heart to you— you shall receive my last thoughts. " Marie Antoinette looked with tearful eyes at her sister, and sank, white as a lily, on her knees. "I am ready," said she, folding her hands, while Josepha bent forward, and laid her hand, as with a blessing, upon Antoinette's soft blond hair. " When I am dead, " said Josepha, " go to my sisters, and beg them to forgive my unkind words. Tell them that I loved them all dearly. Say to Maria Amelia that she must pardon my unsisterly conduct. It arose, not from haughtiness, but from despair. For, Antoinette, I hated the King of Naples, and well I knew what a miserable fate awaited me as his queen. But there was no rescue for me, that I knew ; so I ti"ied to hide my grief under the sem- blance of exultation. Tell her to forgive me for the sake of the tears I have shed in secret over this hated betrothal. How often *The princess's own words. See " M^moires surlaVie Priv6e de Marie An to i nette," par Madame Canipan, vol i., p. 38. 190 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. have I called upon deatli to liberate me ! and yet, now that the dark shadow of Azrael's icy wing is upon me, I fear to die." "Let me die for you, sister!" exclaimed Antoinette, resolutely. "Give me the hood and mantle. I will cover my face, and no one will know that it is I, for I am almost as tall as you. If I never return from tlie vault alive, the empress will pardon you for my sake. Oh, I should tlie happy, if my death would rescue you, Josepha. " And Antoinette attempted to draw off her sister's mantle, and put it around her own shoulders. But Josepha withheld her. "Dear child," said she, kissing her, "is it possible that you are willing to die for me, you who are so young and happy?" " For that very reason, Josepha, " said Antoinette, " it might be well to die. Who knows what sorrows the world may have in reserve for me? Let me die to-day, dear sister, let me — " At that moment the door opened, and the maid of honor of the Archducliess Josepha appeared. " Pardon me, your highness, " said she deprecatingly. " A page of her majesty is here to know if you have gone to the imperial vaults. " " Apprise her majesty that I am about to leave, " rei^lied Josepha, with dignity. Taking Antoinette in her arms, she said, in a whis- per : " You see, it is I who must die. Farewell, dearest ; may you live and be happy !" So saying, she tore herself away from the weeping child and hastened to her caiTiage. Antoinette, with a shriek, i-ushed for- ward to follow, but Josepha had fastened the door. The poor child sank on her knees and began to pray. But prayer brought no con- solation. Slie thought of her sister dying from terror, and wrung her hands while she cried aloud. Suddenly she ceased, started to her feet, and the blood mounted to her pale face. "The secret door!" exclaimed she. "I had forgotten it." She crossed the room towai'd a picture that liung on a wall opposite, and toucliing a spring in its frame, it flew back and revealed a conuuu- nication with one of the state-apartments. Slie sprang through the opening, her golden hair fljing out in showers behind her, her cheeks glowing, her eyes flashing, and her heart beating wildly as she sped throiigli the palace to the empress's apartments. The sentry would have stopped her ; but throwing him off with an im- perious gesture, she darted through the door, and all ceremony for- getting, flew to the sittting-rooni of the empress, and threw herself at her mother's feet. CHAPTER XLVI. INOCULATION. Maria Theres.\ was standing in the embrasure of a window, and she scarcely turned her head as she heard the rustling behind her. She took no notice of the breach of etiquette of whic-li Antoi- nette was guilty, in rushi-ng vmannounced upon lier solitude. Her eyes were fixed upon the chapel of the Capuchins in whose vaults lay so many wboui she bad loved. Her heart and thoughts were within those gray walls, now with her husband and her dead chil- INOCULATION. 191 dren, now with Josepha, for whom she felt pang aftei' pang of anxiety. In an absent tone she turned and said : "Wliat brings you hither, little Antoinette?" "Josepha, dear mother. Have pity on Josepha !" The empress, with a thrill of joy at her heart, replied, " She did not go, then'?" " Yes, yes, she went because you forced her to go, but she went with a broken heart. Oh, mamma, Josepha says that the dead are waiting to take her with them ! May I not order my carriage and lly to bring her back?" Maria Theresa said nothing. Her eyes turned first upon the beautiful little suppliant at her feet, then they wandered out through tlie evening haze, and rested on the dark towers of the Capuchin chapel. "Oh, dear mamma, " continued Antoinette, " if I may not bring her back, at least let me share her danger. Be good to your poor little Antoinette. You promised, if I behaved well, to do something for me, mamma, and now I deserve a reward, for Count Brandeis says that I have been a good girl of late. Do not shake your head, it would make me better if I went to pray with Josepha. Y^ou do not know how vain and worldly I am. When I saw Josepha's beautiful jewels I was quite envious of her ; and indeed, mamma, no one needs solitude and prayer more than I. Let me go and pray for grace by the grave of my father. " The empress laid her hand upon her daughter's head, and looked at her beautiful countenance with an expression of deepest tender- ness. "You are a noble-hearted child, my Antoinette," said she. "With such sensibility as yours, you are likely to suffer from the faults and misconceptions of the world ; for magnanimity is so i-are that it is often misunderstood. You would share your sister's danger, while believing in its reality. No, no, darling, I cannot accept your generous sacrifice. It would be useless, for Josepha's terror will shorten her prayers. Before you could reach the chapel, she will have left it — " Maria Theresa paused, and again looked out from the window. The rolling of carriage-wheels was distinctly heard coming toward the palace. Now it ceased, and the sentry's voice was heard at the gates. "Ah!" cried the empress, joyfully, "I was right. It is Josepha. Her devotions have not been long ; but I will confess to you, Antoi- nette, that a weight is lifted from my heart. I have not breathed freely since she left my presence. Oh, I will forgive her for her short prayers, for they have shortened my miserable suspense !" " Let me go and bring her to you, mamma, " cried Antoinette, clapping her hands and darting toward the door. But the empress held her back. "No, dear, remain with me. Josepha's heart will reveal to her that her mother longs to welcome her back." At that moment a page announced the Countess Lerchenfeld. "It is not my child !" cried the empress, turning pale. The countess, too, was very pale, and she trembled as she ap- proached the imperial mother. " She is dead ! " murmured Marie Antoinette, sinking almost fainting to the floor. 192 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. But the empress called out, "Where is my child? In mercy, tell me why you are here without her?" " Please your majesty, " replied the countess, " I come to beg that you will excuse her highness. She has been suddenly taken sick. She was lifted insensible to the carriage, and has not yet recovered her consciousness. " Maria Theresa reeled, and a deathly paleness overspread her covmteuance. "Sick!" murmured she, with quivering lip. "What — what happened?" " I do not know, your majesty. Accordng to your imperial com- mand I accompanied her highness to the chapel. I went as far as the stairway that leads to the crypts. Her highness was strangely agitated. I tried to soothe her, but as she looked below, and saw the open door, she shuddered, and clinging to me, whispered : ' Countess, I scent the loathesome corpse that even now stirs in its coffin at my approach. ' Again I strove to comfort her, but all in vain. Scarcely able to support herself, she bade me farewell, and commended her- self to your majesty. Then, clinging to the damp walls, she tottered below, and disappeared." " And did you not hold her back !" cried Marie Antoinette. " You had the cruelty to leave her — " " Peace, Antoinette, " said the empress, raising her hand, implor- ingly. "What else?" asked she, hoarsely. " I stood at the head of the stairway, your majesty, awaiting her highuess's return. For a while all was silent ; then I heard a pierc- ing shriek, and I hastened to the vault — " " Was it my child?" asked the empress, now as rigid as a marble statue. "Yes, your majesty. I found her highness kneeling, with her head resting upon the tomb of the emperor. " "Insensible?" " No, your majesty. I approached and found her icy cold, her eyes dilated, and her face covered with drops of cold sweat. She vi^as scarcely able to speak, but in broken accents she related to me that, as she was making her way toward the altar at the head of the emperor's tomb, she suddenly became sensible that something was holding her back. Horror-stricken, she strove to fly, but could not. When, as she turned her head, she beheld the coffin of the Empress Josepha, and saw that from thence came the power that held her back. With a shriek she bounded forward, and fell at the foot of the emperor's tomb. I supported her until we reached the chapel- door, when she fainted, and I had to call for help to bear her to her carriage. " " And now ?" asked the empress, who was weeping bitterly. "She is still unconscious, your majesty. Herr van Swieten and the emperor are at her bedside. " "And I," cried the unhappy empress, "I, too, must be with my poor, martyred child." Marie Antoinette would have followed, but her mother bade her remain, and hastening from the room, Maria Theresa ran breathless through the corridors until slie reached her daughter's apartments. There, like a crushed lily, lay the fair bride of Naples, while near her stood her brother in speechless grief. At the foot of the bed Van Swieten arid one of the maids of honor were rubbing her white feet with stimulants. INOCULATION. 193 The empress laid her hand upon Josepha's cold brow, and turn- ing to Van Swieten, as though in his hands lay the fate of her child, as she asked : "WiUshedie?" " Life and death, " replied the physician, " are in the hands of the Lord. As long as there is life, there is hope. " Maria Theresa shook her head. " I have no hope, " said she, with the calmness of despair. " 'Tis the enemy of our house. Is it not, Van Swieten? Has she not the small-pox?" " I fear so, your majesty. " "She must die, then — and it is I who have murdered her!" shrieked the empress, wildly ; and she fell fainting to the floor. On the fifteenth of October, the day on which Josepha was to have given her hand to the King of JSTaples, the bells of Vienna tolled her funeral knell. Not in her gilded carriage rode the fair young bride, but cold and lifeless she lay under the black and silver pall on which were placed a myrtle-wreath and a royal crown of gold. Another spouse had claimed her hand, and the man-iage-rites were solemnized in the still vaults of the chapel of the Capuchins. The empress had not left her daughter's room since* the fatal day of her return from the chapel. With all the tenderness of her afi;ec- tionate nature she had been the nurse of her suffering child. Not a tear was in her eye, nor a murmur on her lips. Silent, vigilant, and sleepless, she had struggled with the foe that was wresting yet another loved one from her house. Day by day Josepha grew worse — until she lay dying. Still the empress shed no tear. Bending over her daughter's bed, she received her last sigh. And now she watched the corjjse, and would not be moved, though the emperor and Van Swieten implored her to seek rest. When the body was removed, the poor, tearless mourner followed it from the room through the halls and gates of the palace until it was laid in the grave. Then she returned home, and, without a word, retired to her own apartments. There, on a table, lay heaps of papers and letters with unbroken seals. But the empress heeded nothing of all this. Ma- ternity reigned supreme in her heart — there was room in it for grief and remorse alone. She strode to the window, and there, as she had done not many days before, she looked out upon the gray towers of the chapel, and thought how she had driven her own precious child into the dismal depths of its loathsome vaults. The door was softly opened, and the emperor and Van Swieten were seen with anxious looks directed toward the window where the empress was standing. " What is to be done?" said Joseph. " How is she to be awakened from that fearful torpor?" "We must bring about some crisis," replied Van Swieten, tlioughtfully. " We must awake both the empress and the mother. The one must have work — the other, tears. This frozen sea of grief must thaw, or her majesty will die." " Doctor, " cried Joseph, " save her, I implore you. Do something to humanize this marble grief." " I will try, your majesty. With your permission I will assemble the imperial family here, and we will ask to be admitted to the 194 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COUET. presence of the empress. The Archduchess Marie Antoinette and the Arcliduke Maximilian I shall not summon." Not long after, the door was once more softly opened, and the Emperor Joseph, followed hy his sisters and the doctor, entered the empi'ess's sitting-room. Maria Theresa was still erect before the window, staring at the dark towers of the chapel. "Your majesty," said Joseph, approaching, "your children are here to mourn with you. " "It is well," replied Maria Theresa, without stirring from her position. " I thank you all. But leave me, my children. I woukl mourn alone." "But before we go, will not your majesty vouchsafe one look of kindness?" entreated tlie emperor. "May we not kiss your hand? Oh, my beloved mother, your living children, too, have a right to your love ! Do not turn away so coldly from vis. Let your children comfort their sad hearts with the sight of your dear and honored countenance. " There was so much genuine feeling in Joseph's voice, as he uttered these words, that his mother could not resist him. She turned and gave him her hand. "God bless you, my son," said slie, "for your loving words. They fall like balsam upon my sore and wounded heart. God bless you all, my children, who have come hither to comfort your poor, sorrowing mother. " The archduchesses flocked, w^eeping to her side, and smiled through their tears, as they met her glance of love. But suddenly she started, and looked searcliingly around the room. "Where are my little ones?" said she anxiously. No one spoke, but the group all tiirned their eyes upon Van Swieten, whose presence, until now, had been unobserved by the einpress. Like an angry lioness, she sprang forward to the threshold, and laid her liand upon Van Swieten's shoulder. "What means your presence here, Van Swieten?" cried she loudly. " What fearfvil message do you bear me now ? My children ! my cliildren ! where are they?" "In their rooms, your majesty," replied Van Swieten, seriously. " I came hither expressly to apologize for their absence. It was I who prevented them from coming. " "Why so?" exclaimed the empress. "Because, your majesty, they have never had tlie small-pox ; and contact with you would b(> dangerous for them. For some weeks they must absent themselves from your majesty's presence." "You are not telling me the truth, Van Swieten!" cried Maria Theresa, hastily. " My children are sick, and I must go to them. " "Your majesty may banisli me forever from the palace," said he, "but as long as I remain, you cannot approacli your children. It is my duty to shield them from the infection which still clings to your majpsty's person. Would you be the probable cause of their deaith?" The earnest tone witli wliicli Van Swieten put this question so overcame the empress, tiiat she raised both her arms, and cried out in a voice of ])ieicing anguish: "Ah! it is I who caused Josepha's death ! — I who nuudered my unhappy child !" INOCULATION . 195 These words once uttered, the icy bonds that had frozen her heart gave way, and Maria Theresa wept. "She is saved !" whispei'ed Van Swieten to the emperor. "Will your majesty now request the archduchesses to retire? The empress does not like to be seen in tears ; and this paroxysm once over, the presence of her daughters will embarrass her. " The emperor communicated Van Swieten's wish, and the prin- cesses silently and noiselessly withdrew. The empress was on lier knees, while showers of healing tears were refreshing her seethed heart. "Let us try to induce her to rise," whispered Van Swieten. "This hour, if it please God, may prove a signal blessing to all Austria. " The emperor approached, and tenderly strove to lift his mother, while he lavished words of love and comfort upon her. She allowed him to lead her to a divan, where gradually the tempest of her grief gave place to deep-drawn sighs, and, finall3^ to peace. The crisis, however, was long and terrible, for the affections of Maria Theresa were as strong as her will ; and fierce had been the conflict between the two. For some time a deep silence reigned throughout the room. Finally, the empress raised her eyes and said, "You will speak the truth, both of you, will you not?" "We will, your majesty," replied the emperor and Van Swieten. "Then, Joseph, say^are my children well and safe?" "They are, my dearest mother, and but for the doctor's prohibi- tion, both would have accompanied us thither." Maria Theresa tlien turned to the i:)hj'sician. " Van Swieten, " said she, "you, too, must swear to speak the truth. I have something to ask of you also. " "I swear, your majesty," replied Van Swieten. "Then say if I am the cause of my daughter's death. Do not answer me at once. Take time for reflection, and, as Almighty God hears us, answer me conscientiously. " There was a pause. Nothing was heard save the heavy breathing of the empress, and the ticking of the golden clock that stood upon the mantel. Maria Theresa sat with her liead bowed down upon her hands ; before her stood Joseph, his pale and noble face turned toward tlie pliysician, and his eyes fixed upon him with an expres- sion of deepest entreaty. Van Swieten saw the look, and answered it by a scarcely jjerceptible motion of his head. " Now, speak. Van Swieten, " said the empress, raising her head, and looking him full in the face. "Was Josepha's visit to the chapel- vault the cause of her death?" "No, your majesty," said the physician gravely. "In this sense you were not guilty of her highness's death ; for the body, in small- pox, is infected long before it shows itself on the surface. Had her highness received the infection in the cry^jts of the chapel, she would be still living. Her ten-or and presentiment of death were merely symptoms of the disease." Tlie empress reached out both her hands to Van Swieten, and said: "Thank you, my friend. You surely would not deceive me with false comfort ; I can, therefore, even in the face of this great sorrow, find courage to live and do my duty. I may weep for my lost child, but while weeping I may feel that Heaven's will, and not 196 JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT. my guilt, compassed her death. Thank you, my dear son, for your sympathy and tenderness. You will never know what comfort your love has been to me this day. " So saying, she drew the emperor close to her, and putting both her arms around his neck, kissed him tenderly. "Van Svvieten, " said she, then, "what do you mean by saying that ' in this sense' I was not guilty of Josepha's death. " "I think, your majesty," replied the emperor, "that I can ex- plain those words. He means to say that had you yielded to his frequent petitions to make use of inoculation as a safeguard against the violence of the small-pox, our dear Josepha might have survived her attack. Is it not so. Van Swieten?" " It is, your majesty. If the empress would consent to allow the introduction in Austria of inoculation for the small-pox, she would not only shield her own family from danger, but would confer a great lilessing on her subjects. " "Indeed, Van Swieten," replied the empress, after a pause, "what you propose seems sinful to me. Besides, I have heard that many who were inoculated for small-pox have died of its effects. But for this, they might have lived for many years. How can I reconcile it to my conscience to assume such an awful responsibility V" "But," urged Van Swieten, "thousands have been rescued, wliere two or three have perished. I do not say that the remedy is infalli- ble ; but I can safely say that out of one hundi-ed cases, ninety, by its use, are rendered innoxious. Oh, your majesty ! when you re- member that within ten years five members of your family have been victims to this terrific scourge — when you remember how for weeks Austria was in extremest sorrow while your majesty lay so ill, how can you refuse such a boon for yourself and your people?" "It is hard for me to refuse any thing to the one whose skilful hand restored me to life, " replied the empress, while she reached her hand to Van Swieten. " My dear, dear mother !" exclaimed Joseph, " do not refuse him ! He asks you to save the lives of thousands. Think liow different life would have been for me had my Isabella lived ! Think of my sisters — think of Antoinette and Maximilian, who long to be with you and cannot. " " D(ictor, " said the empress, " if my children were inoculated, how long woTild it be before I could see tliem?" " lu two liours, your majesty ; for in that time the poison would have permeated their systems. " By this time the empress had resumed her habit of walking to and fro when she was debating any thing in her mind. She went oi\ for some time, wliile Van Swieten and the emperor followed her movements with anxious looks. Finally she si)oke. "Well, my son," said she, coming close to Josepli, and smiling fondly upon him, "I yield to you as co-regent of Austria. You, too, have some right to speak in this matter, and your wishes sliall decide mine. To you, also. Van Swieten, I yield in gratitude for all that you have done for me and mine. Let Au.-