Berlin and Sans-Souci Part 38

"I intend to accompany you."

"You intend to accompany me?"

"Yes; perhaps you will need a witness; I must be with you. I thought you would have counted on me."

"How could I suppose that Lupinus, the learned student, who will receive his diploma at the end of a few weeks, would tear himself from the arms of his beloved Science, to go with a comedian before the king, and bear witness for the hated and despised actors?"

"Ah, Fredersdorf," said Lupinus; "if you consider Science my beloved, I fear you will soon have occasion to call me a faithless lover."

"What can you mean? How! you also--"

"Let us be off, my friend. We will discuss that in the carriage."

CHAPTER IV.

THE FRIENDS.

Four days after the unfortunate occurrences in the theatre, Fredersdorf and his friend Lupinus returned from their secret journey, the object of which was unknown even to Eckhof. No sooner had they alighted from their travelling carriage, than they proceeded arm-in-arm to Eckhof's lodging. They found him at home and alone, and Fredersdorf saw from his pale countenance and l.u.s.treless eyes that his sensitive, easily excited nature had been deeply wounded by the late events.

"I bring you a new pupil, my master," said Fredersdorf, drawing Lupinus forward, who stood deeply blus.h.i.+ng before Eckhof.

Eckhof smiled sadly. "A pupil who desires that I should lead him through all the cla.s.ses and degrees of the school of suffering and humiliation?"

"A young student, Eckhof, who up to this time has been the pride and delight of the university; who, however, now wishes to relinquish this honor, and become one of your followers. In one word, this is Lupinus, who desires to waive his right to the prospective dignity of the t.i.tle of doctor of medicine, and to become your pupil, and eventually an actor."

"You are kind and tender-hearted as ever, Joseph," said Eckhof, gently. "You know that I bear a wound in my heart, and you seek to heal it with the balm of your friends.h.i.+p, and this kind jest."

"This is no jest, but a reality. Truly, you resemble a pair of lovers, who have not the courage to believe in their own happiness.

Eckhof will not believe that the learned student Lupinus wishes to become his follower and pupil, and Lupinus stands there like a young girl who has received a declaration and does not dare say yes.

Speak, Lupinus, and tell this doubter that you have come voluntarily; that I have not pressed you into the service as Frederick William impressed soldiers. Truly, I had trouble enough in divining from your broken words and repressed sighs, your blushes, and your deep admiration for Eckhof, this secret which lay in your bosom. But now that it has been discovered, take courage, my friend, and raise the veil which conceals your desires."

Lupinus remained speechless, only the heaving of his breast betrayed his excitement. Eckhof had compa.s.sion on the evident embarra.s.sment of the young student, and approaching him laid his hand gently on his shoulder. Lupinus trembled and grew pale under Eckhof's gentle, sympathetic glance.

"Do you wish really to become an actor?" questioned Eckhof.

"Yes," he replied in a low voice, "I have long wished it, I have struggled with this wish, and thought I had overcome it; but the struggle has been in vain; in vain have I buried myself in books and studies. I will keep up this internal strife no longer, but will follow the inclinations of my heart, which lead me to you. In this new life I shall be happy and contented; and this I can only hope to be, in giving my life to poetry and art."

"Ah, he speaks and thinks as I did," said Eckhof to him self; then turning to Lupinus, he said: "You wish to be an actor; that means, you desire a life of shame and humiliation. No one shall become an actor if I can prevent it. Do you know, young man, that, to become an actor, means to have the whole world, and perhaps even G.o.d, arrayed against you?"

"You are unjust, Eckhof," cried Fredersdorf--"unjust to yourself and to the world. You scorn your own triumph, and those who prepared that triumph for you."

"You are right so far, my friend," replied Eckhof sadly. "But is it not also true that we are persecuted and driven forth? Has it not been proved that for an actor there is no law, no justice?"

"Who knows," said Fredersdorf, smiling, "that we may not still triumph over these miserable conspirators?"

"Are you aware that the theatre has been closed, and our representations forbidden until the decision of the General a.s.sembly, with regard to the late disturbance in the theatre, shall be known?"

"The General a.s.sembly will order the theatre to be opened, and our representations to recommence."

Eckhof heard this with a cutting, derisive laugh. "Dear friend, such an order would render justice to the scorned and oppressed on earth!"

"And they will receive justice; but it must be sought in the right place."

"Where is that place?"

"Where the king is."

"Ah! the king! That may be true in your case, because your brother is his private secretary, but it is not true for me--not true for the German actor."

"Eckhof, you are again unjust. The king is too n.o.ble, too free from prejudice, to be deceived by the dust with which these learned professors have sought to blind him. The king knows that they occasioned the late disturbance in the theatre."

"Who has told you that?"

"The king himself."

"You have seen the king?"

"I have. I hope you will allow now, that it is not a good thing for me only that my brother is private secretary to the king. I have seen his majesty, and I informed him of this wretched intrigue of the professors. He might not have put entire faith in the accounts of the actor, Joseph Fredersdorf, but I was accompanied by a responsible witness, who confirmed my words."

"Who was this witness?"

"This is he," said Joseph, drawing Lupinus forward.

"Ah!" said Eckhof, "and I was murmuring and complaining against fate--I, whose friends have shown their love by deeds as well as by words--friends who worked for me whilst I sat with folded hands bewailing my bad fortune. Forgive me, Joseph; forgive me, my young friend; come to my arms, my comrades, my brothers, and say that you will forget my anger and injustice."

He opened his arms, and Joseph threw himself upon his breast.

"And you, my friend," said Eckhof, turning to Lupinus, who stood pale and motionless before him.

Joseph drew them together and exclaimed: "Was I not right? You are like two lovers; Lupinus acts the part of the coy maiden to the life. I do not believe, Eckhof, that you will ever have a wife who will love you more entirely, more tenderly, than our young doctor does."

Lupinus, now folded in the arms of Eckhof, trembled and grew pale at these words from Joseph.

"Love me, love me, my dear young friend," said Eckhof, softly.

"Friends.h.i.+p is the purest, the holiest gift of G.o.d. It is the love of the souls. Be faithful to me, Lupinus, as I shall be to you."

"I will be faithful so long as I live, faithful beyond the grave,"

whispered Lupinus.

"You whispering, dreaming lovers, are forgetting me," said Joseph, laughing. "You must not forget, Eckhof, that the future of our friend is awaiting your decision. Shall he give up his studies as I did, and become an actor? It is only proper to tell you that the cases are not quite parallel, for I was a very lazy student, and he is most industrious. I was considered a good-for-nothing, and Lupinus is a miracle of knowledge and learning. Shall he abandon this position and follow you?"

"He must not, indeed," said Eckhof.

"You will not receive me?" said Lupinus, sadly.