Frederick the Great and His Court Part 30

The queen observed that the blus.h.i.+ng Laura was wonderfully beautiful, and in her pa.s.sionate anger could have trodden her under foot for this presumptuous and treasonable beauty. She felt that it was impossible longer to remain silent, longer to defer the decision. The queen's anger fairly flamed within her, and threatened to break forth; she was now a pa.s.sionate, reckless woman, nothing more; and she was guided by her pa.s.sion and the power of her angry pride alone.

"I am going to receive her majesty," said Sophia Dorothea, with trembling lips. "Her majesty has presented herself unceremoniously, and I shall therefore receive her without ceremony. All of you will remain here except Mademoiselle von Pannewitz, who will accompany me."

CHAPTER XIII.

PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE.

The greeting of the two queens was over; the inquiries of politeness and etiquette had been exchanged; Sophia had offered Queen Elizabeth her hand and conducted her into the small saloon, where she was in the habit of receiving her family.

The door leading to the conservatory was open, and the two maids of honor could be seen within, standing with Laura, and asking questions in a low tone, to which she replied almost inaudibly. She felt that the decisive hour of her destiny was at hand, and she prayed that G.o.d would strengthen her for the coming trial. She trembled not for herself, but for her lover; for his dear sake she was determined to bear the worst, and bravely meet the shock; she would not yield, she would not die, for he would perish with her; in her heart of hearts, she renewed the oath of eternal love and eternal faith she had taken, and nerved herself for persecution and endurance. Suddenly she heard the harsh voice of the queen calling her name; she looked up, and saw her standing in the door.

"I beg the maids of honor to join the ladies in the garden; you, mademoiselle, will remain here; I have a few words to say to you."

The ladies bowed and left the conservatory. Laura remained alone; she stood with folded hands in the middle of the room; her cheek was deadly pale, her lips trembled, but her eyes were bright, and filled with a heroic and dreamy excitement. As Sophia called her name, Laura laid her hand upon her heart, as if to suppress its stormy beating, and with her head bowed meekly upon her breast she advanced submissively at the call of her mistress. At the door of the second saloon she remained standing, and awaited the further commands of the queen. As Sophia did not speak, Laura raised her eyes and looked timidly at the two queens, who were seated on a sofa opposite the door; they were both gazing at her, the queen-mother severely, with a proud and derisive smile, but Queen Elizabeth regarded with unutterable pity this poor girl, who reminded her of a broken lily.

"Mademoiselle von Pannewitz," said Sophia, after a long silence, "I have a matter of great importance to communicate to you, and as it admits of no delay, her majesty has allowed me to speak to you in her presence. Listen attentively, and weigh well my words. I have treated you with affectionate kindness; you have always found in me a friend and mother. I therefore require of you unconditional and silent obedience--an obedience that as your queen and mistress I have a right to demand. You are of a n.o.ble but poor family, and your parents cannot support you in the style suitable to your birth. I have adopted you, and will now establish for you a future which will be both splendid and happy. A rich and gallant cavalier has proposed for your hand, and as it is a most fitting and advantageous offer, I have accepted it for you, and promised your consent."

The queen ceased and looked piercingly at the young girl, who was still leaning against the door, silent and dejected. This dumb submission, this weak resignation revolted the queen; instead of softening her anger, she took this silence for defiance, this humility for stubbornness.

"You are not at all anxious, it appears, to learn the name of your future husband," she said, sharply; "perhaps the rapture of joy binds your tongue, and prevents you from thanking me for my motherly care."

"Pardon, your majesty," said Laura, raising her soft eyes to the harsh and severe countenance of the queen; "it was not joy that closed my lips, but reverence for your majesty; I feel no joy."

"You feel no joy!" cried the queen, with the cruel rage of the lion who seizes his prey and tears it in pieces when there is none to deliver.

"Well, then, you will marry without joy, that is decided; and as you are too far above all womanly weakness to appear curious, I shall be obliged to name the happy man whose loving bride you are soon to be, that you make no mistakes, and perhaps, in the tenderness of your heart, render another than your appointed husband happy in your embraces." Laura uttered a low cry of anguish, and her cheeks, colorless until now, were dyed red with shame.

"Have pity, your majesty," murmured Elizabeth Christine, laying her hand softly on the shoulder of the queen; "see how the poor girl suffers."

Sophia shrugged her shoulders contemptuously. "Nonsense! do we not all suffer? have not I suffered? Is there a woman on G.o.d's earth whose heart is not half melted away with hot and unavailing tears?"

"It is true," said Elizabeth; "we have but one exclusive privilege--to weep and to endure."

The queen-mother turned again to Laura, who had checked her tears, but was still standing bowed down, and trembling before her.

"Well," said Sophia, "it still does not suit you to inquire the name of your lover, then I shall name him; mark well my words: it is Count Voss who has chosen you for his wife, and to him alone you have now to direct your heart and your tenderness."

Laura now raised her eyes and fixed them steadily upon this cruel mistress; her glance was no longer soft and pleading, but determined.

The imperious manner of the queen, instead of intimidating the pale and gentle girl, awakened her to the consciousness of her own dignity.

"Majesty," she said, with cool decision, "love is not given by command, it cannot be bestowed arbitrarily."

"By that you mean to affirm that you do not, and cannot love Count Voss," said the queen, suppressing her fury with difficulty.

"Yes, your majesty. I do not, I cannot love Count Voss."

"Well, then," cried Sophia, "you will marry him without love, and that speedily!"

Laura raised her head pa.s.sionately; her eye met the queen's, but this time not humbly, not timidly, but decisively. From this moment, Sophia Dorothea was to her no longer a queen, but a cruel, unfeeling woman, who was trampling upon her soul and binding it in chains.

"Pardon, your majesty, as I have said that I do not love Count Voss, it follows of course that I will never marry him."

The queen sprang from her seat as if bitten by a poisonous reptile.

"Not marry him!" she shrieked; "but I say you shall marry him! yes, if you have to be dragged with violence to the altar!"

"Then at the altar I will say no!" cried Laura von Pannewitz, raising her young face, beaming with courage and enthusiasm, toward heaven.

The queen uttered a wild cry and sprang forward; the lion was about to seize upon its prey and tear it to pieces, but Elizabeth Christine laid her hand upon the raised arm of the queen and held her back. "Majesty,"

she said, "what would you do? you would not force this poor girl to marry against her will; she does not love Count Voss, and she is right to refuse him."

"Ha! you defend her?" cried Sophia, brought to extremities by the resistance of the queen; "you have then no presentiment why she refuses the hand of Count Voss; you do not comprehend that when a poor dependent maid of honor refuses to marry a rich and n.o.ble cavalier, it is because she believes she has secured her future in another direction--because in the haughtiness of her vain, infatuated heart, she hopes through her beauty and well-acted coquetry to secure for herself a more brilliant lot. But, mark me! however charming and alluring that prospect may appear outwardly, even in its success there would be found nothing but infamy! She can never have the madness to believe that any priest in this land would dare to bind with the blessings of the Holy Church a love so boldly impudent, so traitorous; she can never hope to set her foot where only the lawful wife of a king can stand--where the sister of the king of England has stood! yes, where she still stands, and from whence she is resolved to repulse this miserable coquette, who hopes to conquer a throne through her shameless allurements."

Laura uttered a piercing scream, and with hands raised to heaven, she exclaimed, "My G.o.d! my G.o.d! can I bear this and live?"

The queen broke into a wild, mocking laugh. Elizabeth Christine looked, questioningly, at this scene, which she did not comprehend, but which touched her heart by its tragic power.

"It is a hard and cruel accusation which your majesty is bringing against this young girl; let us hope that Laura will know how to defend herself."

"Defend herself! look at her! look how my words have crushed her! how her proud, aspiring soul is checked! Believe me, Elizabeth, she, whom you so generously pity, understands my words better than your majesty; and she knows well of what I accuse her; but you, my daughter, shall know also; you have a right to know."

"Mercy! your majesty, mercy!" cried Laura, falling upon her knees and raising her arms pleadingly toward the queen; "speak no more! humble me no further! Do not betray my secret, which in your mouth becomes a denunciation! Let me remain even on the brink of the precipice, where you have dragged me! that is appalling, but cast me not down! So low and dust-trodden a creature is no longer worthy of the honor of approaching your majesty, I see that, and beg humbly for my dismissal, not as your majesty supposes, to lead an independent and happy, if still a shameful life, but to flee to some corner of the world, where alone and unseen I may weep over the beautiful and innocent dreams of my life, from which your majesty has awakened me so cruelly."

She was wonderfully beautiful in this position; those raised arms, that n.o.ble, transparently pale, tear-stained countenance. Sophia Dorothea saw it, and it made her feel more bitter, more cruel.

"Ah, she dares to reproach me," she cried, contemptuously; "she still has a slight consciousness of her shame; she trembles to hear what she did not tremble to do! Listen, my daughter, you that have for her so warm, so pitiful a heart; you who, when I have spoken, will detest and curse her as I do, and as you are ent.i.tled to do. Believe me, Elizabeth, I know all your suffering, all your sorrow; I know the secret history of your n.o.ble, proud, and silent heart. Ask that girl there of your grief and misery; ask her the reason of your lonely, tearful nights; demand of her your broken happiness, your crushed hopes; demand of her your husband's love, your soul's peace.

Mademoiselle von Pannewitz can return them all to you, as she has taken them from you, for she is the mistress of the king."

"Mistress of the king!" said Elizabeth, with a painful cry, while Laura let her hands glide from her face, and looked at the queen with an astonished expression.

"Yes," repeated Sophia Dorothea, whose hot blood rushed so violently through her veins that her voice faltered, and she was scarcely able to retain an appearance of self-control; "yes, she is the mistress of the king, and therefore refuses to marry Count Voss! But patience, patience, she shall not triumph! and if she dares to love my son, the son of the queen, King Frederick of Prussia, I will remind her of Dorris Ritter, who loved him, and was beloved by him! This Dorris was flogged through the streets of Berlin, and cast out from amongst men."

Laura uttered so loud and fearful a cry that even the queen-mother was startled, and for a moment touched with pity for the poor, broken-hearted girl who lay at her feet, like a poor, wounded gazelle in the convulsive agonies of death.

But she would not give way to this pity; would not betray a weakness, of which she was ashamed. Taking the hand of the young queen and casting a look of disdain at Laura, she said, "Come, my daughter, we will no longer bear the presence of this person, whose tears, I hope, spring from repentance and acknowledgment of her offence; may she obtain our pardon by resolving to-day, of her own free will, and without forcing us to harsher measures, to accept the hand of Count Voss; come, my daughter."

The two queens stepped to the door. Sophia threw it open violently, and pa.s.sed immediately into the boudoir, but Elizabeth did not follow her.

She looked back at the poor sobbing girl lying upon the floor. The pale and n.o.ble face touched her womanly heart.

"Pardon, your majesty, if I do not follow immediately; I should like to say a few words to Mademoiselle von Pannewitz; I think I have a right to do so."

The queen-mother experienced a cruel pleasure at these words.

"Oh, my daughter, even your forbearance is exhausted, and you feel that forgiveness is impossible; yes, speak to her, and let her feel the whole weight of your righteous indignation. Words of reproach and accusation from your gentle lips will have a crus.h.i.+ng power. But no delay--you know the king will soon be here."

The queen closed the door. She wished to hear nothing that pa.s.sed between Elizabeth and Laura; she needed rest, in order to receive the king with composure.