The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries Volume Vii Part 34

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WILHELMINE.

As if you did not know the insult you have offered me.

PRINCE.

Princess, would you drive me mad? I offer _you_ an insult?

WILHELMINE.



Have you not heard what sort of a person this learned Laharpe of yours really is?

PRINCE.

Princess, Laharpe is one of the most intelligent of men and possessed of a pretty wit. One might search long among your scholars here in Berlin before finding his equal in cultivation.

WILHELMINE.

He is a wigmaker from Orleans!

PRINCE.

But I a.s.sure you, Princess, he is not a wigmaker. It is true Laharpe does understand the splitting of hairs, but only in scientific controversy; it is true he does use paint and powder, in that he paints his thoughts in words of elegance, and lays on them the powder of ingenious sophistry--an art that is better understood in France than here. It is unfortunate enough, Your Highness, that your royal father's kingdom should be in such bad repute that foreigners of wit, poetry, and cultivation can be admitted only when they come bearing the pa.s.sport of wigmakers.

WILHELMINE.

But our plan has come to naught; Laharpe has been banished.

PRINCE.

A weak reflection of his brilliancy has remained, Princess. Do not think me quite unworthy of taking his place. Grant me the blessed consciousness of having aided you to escape a situation which pa.s.ses all bounds of filial obedience.

WILHELMINE.

Prince--this language--

PRINCE.

It is the language of a feeling I can no longer control, of an indignation I can no longer suppress. Princess, do you know that you are destined as a sacrifice to political and commercial intrigue? That you are to be sent to England in exchange for the produce of English factories?

WILHELMINE (_in indignation_).

Who says that?

PRINCE.

Far be it from me to pa.s.s judgment on your desires--far be it from me to inquire if it may not surprise, perhaps even please your ambitions when you hear that you might win even an Imperial crown--but, if you love the Prince of Wales--

WILHELMINE.

The Prince of Wales? Who says that I love him?

PRINCE.

Your mother, who presupposes it--your father, who commands it.

WILHELMINE.

The Prince of Wales? My cousin, whom I have never seen? Who has never betrayed the slightest interest in me? A Prince whose loose living has made me despise him!

PRINCE.

Then you do not love the Prince?

WILHELMINE.

My heart is free. And no power on earth can force me to give it to any man but to him whom I shall choose myself.

PRINCE.

Do I hear aright?

WILHELMINE.

I have been obedient and dutiful from the very first stirring of my personal consciousness. I have never had a will of my own, or dared, if I had that will, to give it expression. But when they would take the one thing from me, the one thing that is still mine after all these years of humiliation, my own inalienable possession, my heart's free choice--then indeed the bottomless depths of my obedience will be found exhausted. I feel that my brother was justified in throwing off such a yoke--and I will show the world that I am indeed his sister.

PRINCE.

Princess! [_Aside._] What can I do--it is too much joy--too much bliss!

[_Aloud._] Princess! the green garlands on the little window down there, the potted flowers offer a secret retreat--the little linnet in his cage is impatient for the return of his beautiful and benign mistress.

WILHELMINE (_drawing her hand from his_).

You would--

PRINCE.

I would take the place of that misjudged and slandered scholar. And down there, alone with you, not worried by threatening footfalls in the corridors, undisturbed by [_noise of drums outside_] those cruel guardians of your freedom, I would tell the most charming Princess of Europe that--

WILHELMINE.

You have nothing to tell me--nothing at all.

PRINCE (_throws himself at her feet_).

I would tell her that there is one Prince who, although he will one day reign over no more than a tiny plot of German earth, still can gather from the spell of her beauty, the kindness of her heart, the courage to say to her--I love you--I wors.h.i.+p you.

WILHELMINE.

Prince, what are you doing--please arise--some one is coming!

The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries Volume Vii Part 34

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