Frederick the Great and His Court Part 55

"I demand for myself a major's commission, and the hand of Mademoiselle von Schwerin."

In the beginning the king looked at the bold speaker with angry amazement; soon, however, his glance became kind and pitiful. "I have to do with a madman," thought he; "I will be patient, and give way to his humor. I grant you your price," said he; "speak on."

So Fritz Wendel began. He made known the engagement of the prince; he explained the plan of flight; he was so clear, so exact in all his statements, that Frederick soon saw he was no maniac; that these were no pictures of a disordered brain, but a threatening, frightful reality.

When the gardener had closed, the king, his arms folded across his back, walked several times backward and forward through the room; then suddenly stopped before Fritz Wendel, and seemed, with his sharp glance, to probe the bottom of his soul.

"Can you write?" said the king.

"I can write German, French, English, and Latin," said he, proudly.

"Seat yourself there, and write what I shall dictate in German. Does Mademoiselle von Schwerin know your hand?"

"Sire, she has received at least twenty letters from me."

"Then write now, as I shall dictate, the one-and-twentieth."

It was a short, laconic, but tender and impressive love-letter, which Frederick dictated. Fritz Wendel implored his beloved to keep her promise, and on the same day in which the prince would fly with Laura to escape with him to Oranienburg, to entreat the protection of the prince, and through his influence to induce the priest to perform the marriage ceremony; he fixed the time and hour of flight, and besought her to leave the castle punctually, and follow him, without fear, who would be found waiting for her at the castle gate.

"Now, sign it," said the king, "and fold it as you are accustomed to do. Give me the letter; I will see that it is delivered."

"And my price, majesty," said Fritz, for the first time trembling.

The king's clouded brow threatened a fearful storm. "You shall have the price which your treachery and your madness has earned," said Frederick, in that tone which made all who heard it tremble. "Yes, you shall have what you have earned, and what your daring insolence deserves. Were all these things true which you have related with so bold a brow, you would deserve to be hung; you would have committed a twofold crime!--have been the betrayer of a royal prince--have watched him like a base spy, and listened to his secrets, in order to sell them, and sought to secure your own happiness by the misery of two n.o.ble souls! You would have committed the shameful and unpardonable crime of misleading an innocent child, who, by birth, rank, and education, is eternally separated from you. Happily for you, all this romance is the birth of your sick fancy. I will not, therefore, punish you, but I will cure you, as fools and madmen are cured; I will send you to a madhouse until your senses are restored, and you confess that this wild story is the picture of your disordered brain--until you swear that these are bold lies with which you have abused my patience.

The restored invalid will receive my forgiveness--the obstinate culprit, never!"

The king rang the bell, and said to his adjutants, "Take this man out, and deliver him to the nearest sentinels; command them to place him at once in the military hospital; he is to be secured in the wards prepared for madmen--no man shall speak with him; and if he utters any wild and senseless tales, I am to be informed of it."

"Oh, sire! pardon, pardon! Send me not into the insane asylum. I will retract all; I will believe that all this is false; that I have only dreamed--that--"

The king nodded to his adjutants, and they dragged the sobbing, praying gardener from the room, and gave him to the watch.

The king looked after him sadly. "And Providence makes use of such pitiful men to control the fate of nations," said he. "A miserable garden-boy and a shameless maid of honor are the chosen instruments to serve the dynasty of the Hohenzollerns, and to rob the prince royal of Prussia of his earthly happiness! Upon what weak, fine threads hang the majesty and worth of kings! Alas, how often wretched and powerless man looks out from under the purple! In spite of all my power and greatness--in spite of my army, the prince would have flown, and committed a crime, that perhaps G.o.d and his conscience might have pardoned, but his king never! Poor William, you will pay dearly for this short, sweet dream of love, and your heart and its illusions will be trodden under foot, even as mine have been. Yes, alas! it is scarcely nine years, and it seems to me I am a hundred years older--that heavy blocks of ice are encamped about my heart, and I know that, day by day this ice will become harder. The world will do its part--this poor race of men, whom I would so gladly love, and whom I am learning daily to despise more and more!"

He walked slowly to and fro; his face was shadowed by melancholy. In a short time he a.s.sumed his wonted expression, and, raising his head, his eyes beamed with a n.o.ble fire.

"I will not be cruel! If I must destroy his happiness, it shall not be trodden under foot as common dust and ashes. Alas, alas! how did they deal with me? My friend was led to execution, and a poor innocent child was stripped and horsewhipped through the streets, because she dared to love the crown prince! No, no; Laura von Pannewitz shall not share the fate of Dorris Ritter. I must destroy the happiness of my brother, but I will not cover his love with shame!"

So saying, the king rang, and ordered his carriage to be brought round.

He placed the letter, which he had dictated to Fritz Wendel, in his pocket, and drove rapidly to the queen-mother's palace.

Frederick had a long and secret interview with his mother. The ladies in the next room heard the loud and angry voice of the queen, but they could not distinguish her words. It seemed to them that she was weeping, not from sorrow or pain, but from rage and scorn, for now and then they heard words of menace, and her voice was harsh. At last, a servant was directed to summon Mademoiselle von Pannewitz to the presence of the queen.

He soon returned, stating that Mademoiselle Laura's room was empty, and that she had gone to Schonhausen to visit Queen Elizabeth Christine.

"I will follow her there myself," said the king, "and your majesty may rest a.s.sured that Queen Elizabeth will a.s.sist us to separate these unhappy lovers as gently as possible."

"Ah, you pity them still, my son?" said the queen, shrugging her shoulders.

"Yes, madame, I pity all those who are forced to sacrifice their n.o.blest, purest feelings to princely rank. I pity them; but I cannot allow them to forget their duty."

Laura von Pannewitz had lived through sad and weary days since her last interview with the prince. The enthusiasm and exaltation of her pa.s.sion had soon been followed by repentance. The prince's eloquent words had lost their power of conviction, now that she was no more subject to the magic of his glance and his imposing beauty. He stood no longer before her, in the confidence of youth, to banish doubts and despair from her soul, and convince her of the justification of their love.

Laura was now fully conscious that she was about to commit a great crime--that, in the weakness of her love, she was about to rob the prince of his future, of his glory and power. She said to herself that it would be a greater and n.o.bler proof of her love to offer up herself and her happiness to the prince, than to accept from him the sacrifice of his birthright. But in the midst of these reproaches and this repentance she saw ever before her the sorrowful face of her beloved--she heard his dear voice imploring her to follow him--to be his.

Laura, in the anguish of her soul and the remorse of conscience, had flown for refuge to the gentle, n.o.ble Queen Elizabeth, who had promised her help and consolation when the day of her trial should come. She had hastened, therefore, to Schonhausen, sure of the tender sympathy of her royal friend.

As Laura's carriage entered the castle court, the carriage of the king drew up at the garden gate. He commanded the coachman to drive slowly away, and then stepped alone into the garden. He walked hastily through the park, and drew near to the little side door of the palace, which led through lonely corridors and unoccupied rooms, to the chamber of the queen. He knew that Elizabeth only used this door when she wished to take her solitary walk in the park. The king wished to escape the curious and wondering observations of the attendants, and to surprise the queen and Laura von Pannewitz. He stepped on quietly, and, without being seen, reached the queen's rooms, convinced that he would find them in the boudoir. He was about to raise the portiere which separated it from the ante-room, when he was arrested by the voices of women; one piteous and full of tears, the other sorrowful but comforting. The king let the portiere fall, and seated himself noiselessly near the door.

"Let us listen awhile," said the king; "the women are always coquetting when in the presence of men. We will listen to them when they think themselves alone. I will in this way become acquainted with this dangerous Laura, and learn better, than by a long interview, how I can influence her."

The king leaned his head upon his stick, and fixed his piercing eyes upon the heavy velvet portiere, behind which two weak women were now perhaps deciding the fate of the dynasty of Hohenzollern.

"Madame," said Laura, "the blossoms of our happiness are already faded and withered, and our love is on the brink of the grave."

"Poor Laura!" said the queen, with a weary smile, "it needed no gift of prophecy to foretell that. No flowers bloom around a throne; thorns only grow in that fatal soil! Your young eyes were blinded by magic; you mistook these thorns for blossoms. Alas! I have wounded my heart with them, and I hope that it will bleed to death!"

"O queen, if you knew my doubts and my despair, you would have pity with me; you would not be so cruel as to command me to sacrifice my love and my happiness! My happiness is his, and my love is but the echo of his own. If it was only a question of trampling upon my own foolish wishes, I would not listen to the cry of my soul. But the prince loves me. Oh, madame, think how great and strong this love must be, when I have the courage to boast of it! yes, he loves me; and when I forsake him, I will not suffer alone. He will also be wretched, and his tears and his despair will torture my heart. How can I deceive him? Oh, madame, I cannot bear that his lips should curse me!"

"Yield him up now," said the queen, "and a day will come when he will bless you for it; a day in which he will confess that your love was great, was holy, that you sacrificed yourself and all earthly happiness freely, in order to spare him the wretchedness of future days. He loves you now, dearly, fondly, but a day will come in which he will demand of you his future, his greatness, his royal crown, all of which he gave up for you. He will reproach you for then having accepted this great sacrifice, and he will never forgive you for your weakness in yielding to his wishes. Believe me, Laura, in the hearts of men there lives but one eternal pa.s.sion, and that is ambition. Love to them is only the amus.e.m.e.nt of the pa.s.sing hour, nothing more."

"Oh, madame, if that is so, would G.o.d that I might die; life is not worth the trouble of living!" cried Laura, weeping bitterly.

"Life, my poor child, is not a joy which we can set aside, but a duty which we must bear patiently. You cannot trample upon this duty; and if your grief is strong, so must your will be stronger."

"What shall I do? What name do you give the duty which I must take upon myself?" cried Laura, with trembling lips. "I put my fate in your hands. What shall I do?"

"You must overcome yourself; you must conquer your love; you must follow the voice of conscience, which brought you to me for counsel."

"Oh, my queen, you know not what you ask! Your calm, pure heart knows nothing of love."

"You say that I know nothing of love?" cried the queen, pa.s.sionately.

"You know not that my life is one great anguish, a never-ceasing self-sacrifice! Yes, I am the victim of love--a sadder, more helpless, more torturing love than you, Laura, can ever know. I love, and am not beloved. What I now confess to you is known only to G.o.d, and I tell you in order to console you, and give you strength to accept your fate bravely. I suffer, I am wretched, although I am a queen! I love my husband; I love him with the absorbing pa.s.sion of a young girl, with the anguish which the d.a.m.ned must feel when they stand at the gates of Paradise, and dare not enter in. My thoughts, my heart, my soul belong to him; but he is not mine. He stands with a cold heart near my glowing bosom, and while with rapture of love I would throw myself upon his breast, I must clasp my arms together and hold them still, and must seek and find an icy glance with which to answer his. Look you, there was a time when I believed it impossible to bear all this torture; a time in which my youth struggled like Tantalus; a time in which my pride revolted at this love, with its shame and humiliation; in which I would have given my crown to buy the right to fly into some lonely desert, and give myself up to tears. The king demanded that I should remain at his side, not as his wife, but as his queen; ever near him, but forever separated from him; unpitied and misunderstood; envied by fools, and thought happy by the world! And, Laura, oh, I loved him so dearly that I found strength to bear even this torture, and he knows not that my heart is being hourly crushed at the foot of his throne. I draw the royal purple over my wounded bosom, and it sometimes seems to me that my heart's blood gives this ruddy color to my mantle. Now, Laura, do I know nothing of love? do I not understand the greatness of the sacrifice which I demand of you?"

The queen, her face bathed in tears, opened her arms, and Laura threw herself upon her bosom; their sighs and tears were mingled.

The king sat in the ante-room, with pale face and clouded eyes. He bowed his head, as if in adoration, and suddenly a glittering brilliant, bright as a star, and n.o.bler and more precious than all the jewels of this sorrowful world, fell upon his pallid cheek. "Truly,"

said he to himself, "there is something great and exalted in a woman's nature. I bow down in humility before this great soul, but my heart, alas! cannot be forced to love. The dead cannot be awakened, and that which is shrouded and buried can never more be brought to life and light!"

"You have conquered, my queen," said Laura, after a long pause; "I will be worthy of your esteem and friends.h.i.+p. That day shall never come in which my lover shall reproach me with selfishness and weakness! 'I am ready to be offered up!' I will not listen to him; I will not flee with him; and while I know that he is waiting for me. I will cast myself in your arms, and beseech you to pray to G.o.d for me, that He would send Death, his messenger of love and mercy, to relieve me from my torments."

"Not so, my Laura," said the queen; "you must make no half offering; it is not enough to renounce your lover, you must build up between yourselves an everlasting wall of separation; you must make this separation eternal! You must marry, and thus set the prince a n.o.ble example of self-control."

"Marry!" cried Laura; "can you demand this of me? Marry without love!

Alas, alas! The prince will charge me with inconstancy and treachery to him, and I must bear that in silence."

"But I will not be silent," said the queen, "I will tell him of your grief and of the greatness of your soul; and when he ceases, as he must do, to look upon you as his beloved, he will honor you as the protecting angel of his existence."

"You promise me that. You will say to him that I was not faithless--that I gave him up because I loved him more than I did myself; I seemed faithless only to secure his happiness!"