GIFT OF 
 Irving Lindhahr 
 
 Wrs 
 

 
GERMANY IN STORM AND STRESS 
 
 OLD FRITZ 
 AND THE NEW ERA 
 
 
 BY 
 
 L MUHLBACH A«*W . 
 
 AUTHOR OF THB BMPRBSS JOSEPHINE, MARIE ANTOIwrTTB, jOSWH XL AMD M» 
 FRBDBJUCK THB GREAT AND HIS FAMILY, BERUN AMD SAMS-SOUCI, BTC 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY 
 
 PETER LANGLEY 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 THE McCLURE CO. 
 
 MCMX 
 
Copyright, 1868, 
 BT D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. 
 
 6iih *f 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 BOOK L 
 
 OLD FRITZ. 
 
 CHAPTER PACK 
 
 I. The Lonely King, ....••• 7 
 
 II. Wilhelmine Enke, 16 
 
 m. Frederick William 27 
 
 IV. The Drive to Berlin 88 
 
 V. The Oath of Fidelity, 48 
 
 VI. The Parade, 61 
 
 "VTL The Miraculous Elixir, 75 
 
 VIQ. The Golden Rain, 86 
 
 IX. German Literature and the King, • • • • 92 
 
 BOOK n. 
 
 ROSICRTJCIANS AND POWERFUL GENIUSE& 
 
 X Goethe in Berlin, 107 
 
 XL The Inner and the Middle Temple, .... 123 
 
 XH. The Jesuit General, 137 
 
 XTTT. A Pensioned General 148 
 
 XIV. The King's Letter, 153 
 
 XV. Hate and Love, 161 
 
 XVI. Charles Augustus and Goethe, . • • • .173 
 
 XVn. Goethe's Visits, . 180 
 
 XVin. Farewell to Berlin, 193 
 
 M 1597 
 
IV CONTENTS. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 STORM AND PRESSURE. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XIX. The King and the Austrian Diplomat, • . 198 
 
 XX. The King and the Lover .212 
 
 XXI. In Weimar, . , 223 
 
 XXII. The Reading 235 
 
 XXIII. Witchcraft, 241 
 
 XXIV. The Purse-Proud Man 250 
 
 XXV. The Elopement, 266 
 
 XXVI. Under the Starry Heavens, . .273 
 
 XXVII. The Sacrifice, 281 
 
 BOOK IT. 
 
 THE VISIBLES AND THE INVISIBLES* 
 
 SXVHT. Old Fritz, .298 
 
 XXIX. Cagliostro's Return 313 
 
 XXX. The Triumvirate, 319 
 
 XXXI. Future Plans, 328 
 
 XXXII. Miracles and Spirits 333 
 
 XXXIH. The Return Home, 344 
 
 XXXIV. Behind the Mask 356 
 
 XXXV. The Curse, 363 
 
 XXXVI. The King and the Rosicrucians, . • • .373 
 
 XXXVII. The Espousals, 381 
 
 £XXVHL Revenge Fulfilled, 388 
 
THE HISTORICAL ROMANCE. 
 
 By L. MUHLBACH, 
 
 AUTHOR OF M FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS COURT," " JOSEPH II., 
 11 MERCHANT OF BERLIN," ETC., ETC., 
 
 I would merely say a few words in justification of the His- 
 torical Romance, in its relation to history. Any one, with no 
 preceding profound study of history, who takes a few well- 
 known historical facts as a foundation for an airy castle of 
 romantic invention and fantastic adventure, may easily write 
 an Historical Romance; for him history is only the nude 
 manikin which he clothes and adorns according to his own 
 taste, and to which he gives the place and position most agree- 
 able to himself. But only the writer who is in earnest with 
 respect to historical truth, who is not impelled by levity or 
 conceited presumption, is justified in attempting this species 
 of composition ; thoroughly impressed with the greatness of 
 his undertaking, he will with modest humility constantly re- 
 member that he has proposed to himself a great and sublime 
 work which, however, it will be difficult if not impossible for 
 him wholly and completely to accomplish. 
 
 But what is this great, this sublime end, which the His- 
 torical Romance writer proposes to attain? It is this: to 
 illustrate history, to popularize it ; to bring forth from the 
 silent studio of the scholar and to expose in the public market 
 of life, for the common good, the great men and great deeds 
 embalmed in history, and of which only the studious have 
 hitherto enjoyed the monopoly. Thus, at least, have I con- 
 sidered the vocation I have chosen, not vainly or inconsider- 
 X 
 
3 THE HISTORICAL ROMANCE. 
 
 ately, bat with a profound conviction of the greatness of my 
 undertaking, and with a depressing consciousness that my 
 power and acquirements may prove inadequate for the attain- 
 ment of my proposed end. 
 
 But I am also fully conscious of what was and still is my 
 greatest desire : to give an agreeable and popular form to our 
 national history, which may attract the attention and affec- 
 tions of our people, which may open their understandings to 
 the tendencies of political movements, and connect the facts 
 of history with "the events of actual life. 
 
 The* severe; historian has to do but with accomplished facts; 
 he can only record' and describe, with the strictest regard to 
 truth, that which has outwardly occurred. He describes the 
 battles of peoples, the struggles of nations, the great deeds of 
 heroes, the actions of princes — in short, he gives the accom- 
 plished facts. To investigate and explain the secret motives, 
 the hidden causes of these facts, to present them in connection 
 with all that impelled to them, this is the task of Historical 
 Romance. 
 
 The historian presents to you the outward face, the exter- 
 nal form of history ; Historical Romance would show you the 
 heart of history, and thus bring near to your heart what, else, 
 would stand so far off. To enable him to do this, the writer 
 of an Historical Romance must, indeed, make severe and 
 various studies. He must devote his whole mind and soul to 
 the epoch he would illustrate, he must live in it and feel with 
 it. He must so familiarize himself with all the details, as in 
 a manner to become a child of that epoch ; for he can present 
 a really living image of only that which is living in himself. 
 That this requires a deep and earnest study of history is self- 
 evident. Historical Romance demands the study of the his- 
 torian, together with the creative imagination of the poet. 
 For the free embodiment of the poet can blossom only from 
 out the studio of the historian, as the flower from the seed ; 
 as, by a reciprocal organic action, the hyacinth is derived 
 from the onion, and the rose from its seed-capsule, so are his- 
 
THE HISTORICAL ROMANCE. 3 
 
 tory and poetry combined in the Historical Romance, giving 
 and receiving life to and from each other. 
 
 The Historical Romance has its great task and its great 
 justification — a truth disputed by only those who either have 
 not understood or will not understand its nature. 
 
 The Historical Romance has, if I may be allowed so to 
 speak, four several objects for which to strive : 
 
 Its first object is, to throw light upon the dark places of 
 history, necessarily left unclear by the historian. Poetry has 
 the right and duty of setting facts in a clear light, and of 
 illuminating the darkness by its sunny beams. The poetry 
 of the romance writer seeks to deduce historical characteristics 
 from historical facts, and to draw from the spirit of history 
 an elucidation of historical characters, so that the writer may 
 be able to detect their inmost thoughts and feelings, and in 
 just and sharp traits to communicate them to others. 
 
 The second task of Historical Romance is, to group his- 
 torical characters according to their internal natures, and thus 
 to elucidate and illustrate history. This illustration then 
 leads to the third task, which is the discovery and exposition 
 of the motives which impel individual historical personages to 
 the performance of great historical acts, and from outwardly, 
 apparently insignificant events in their lives to deduce their 
 inmost thoughts and natures, and represent them clearly to 
 others. 
 
 Thence follows the fourth task : the illustration of historical 
 facts by a romance constructed in the spirit of the history. 
 This fourth and principal task is the presentation of history 
 in a dramatic form and with animated descriptions ; upon the 
 foundation of history to erect the temple of poesy, which 
 must nevertheless be pervaded and illuminated by historic 
 truth. From this it naturally follows that it is of very little 
 consequence whether the personages of the Historical Romance 
 actually spoke the words or performed the acts attributed to 
 Chem ; it is only necessary that those words and deeds should 
 be in accordance with the spirit and character of such his- 
 
4 THE HISTORICAL ROMANCE. 
 
 torical personages, and that the writer should not attribute 
 to them what they could not have spoken or done. In the 
 Historical Komance, when circumstances or events are pre- 
 sented in accordance with historical tradition, when the 
 characters are naturally described, they bear with them their 
 own justification, and Historical Romance has need of no 
 further defence. 
 
 Historical Romance should be nothing but an illustration 
 of history. If the drawing, grouping, coloring, and style of 
 such an illustration of any given historical epoch are admitted 
 to be true, then the illustration rises to the elevation of a 
 work of art, worthy of a place beside the historical picture, 
 and is equally useful. 
 
 Raphael's "School of Athens," his "Institution of the 
 Communion," and many others of his pictures, are such illus- 
 trations of history — as also the great paintings of Rubens from 
 the life of Anna dei Medici ; and then the historical pictures 
 of Horace Vernet, of Delaroche, of Lessing, and of Kaul- 
 bach — all these are illustrations of history. What those ar~ 
 tists present and illustrate with paint and pencil, the Historical 
 Romancer represents in words with his pen ; and when he 
 does this successfully, he will live in the memory of his reader 
 as imperishably as the great historical pictures of the painters 
 in the memory of their beholders. 
 
 It would occur to no one to accuse a successful historical 
 picture of falsehood, because the books of history do not show 
 that the occurrence took place precisely in the manner repre- 
 sented, that the historical personages really so laughed or 
 wept, or so deported themselves. If the situation and group- 
 ing of historical events are allowed to be in accordance with 
 the general tenor of history, then the picture may be pro- 
 nounced historically true, and is just as good a piece of his- 
 tory as the record of the special historian. It is the same 
 with the pictures of the romancer as with those of the painter ; 
 and this is my answer to those who, on every occasion, are 
 
THE HISTORICAL ROMANCE. 5 
 
 continually asking: "Was it really thus? Did it really 
 occur in that manner?" 
 
 Show me from history that it could not be so ; that it is not 
 in accordance with the character of the persons represented — 
 then I will confess that I am wrong, and you are right ; then 
 have I not presented an illustration, but only a caricature of 
 history, faulty as a work of art, and wanting the dignity of 
 truth. 
 
 I am conscious of having earnestly and devotedly striven 
 for the truth, and of having diligently sought it in all attain- 
 able historical works. The author of an Historical Romance 
 has before him a difficult task : while he must falsify nothing 
 in history, he must poetize it in a manner that both historical 
 and poetic truth shall be the result. To those, however, who 
 so very severely judge Historical Romance, and would deny 
 its historical worth, I now, in conclusion, answer with the 
 following significant quotation from Schiller : 
 
 " I shall always prove a bad resource for any future his- 
 torian who may have the misfortune to recur to me. History 
 is generally only a magazine for my fantasy, and objects must 
 be contented with whatever they may become under my 
 hand."— (See Weisnar's "Musenhof," p. 93.) 
 
 This declaration of Schiller satisfies me with respect to the 
 nature of my own creations. I desire not to be a resource for 
 historical writers, but I shall always earnestly and zealously 
 seek to draw from the wells of history, that nothing false or 
 unreal may find a place in the "magazine of my fantasy." 
 
 CLAKA MUNDT, 
 
 (L. MtJHLBACH.) 
 Berlin, September 22, 186<J. 
 
OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 BOOK L 
 
 OLD FRITZ. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE LONELY KINO. 
 
 "Well, so let it be!" said the king, sighing, as he rose 
 from his arm-chair ; " I must go forth to the strife, and these 
 old limbs must again submit to the fatigue of war. But what 
 matters it? The life of princes is passed in the fulfilment of 
 duties and responsibilities, and rarely is it gladdened with 
 the sunny rays of joy and peace ! Let us submit ! 
 
 "Yes, let us submit!" repeated the king, thoughtfully, 
 slowly pacing his cabinet back and forth, his hands folded 
 upon his staff behind him, and his favorite dog, Alkmene, 
 sleepily following him. 
 
 It was a melancholy picture to see this bowed-down old 
 man ; his thin, pale face shaded by a worn-out, three-cornered 
 hat, his dirty uniform strewn with snuff; and his meagre 
 legs encased in high-topped, unpolished boots ; his only com- 
 panion a greyhound, old and joyless as his master. Neither 
 the bust of Voltaire, with its beaming, intelligent face, nor 
 those of his friends, Lord-Marshal Keith and the Marquig 
 d'Argens, could win an affectionate glance from the lonely old 
 king. He whom Europe distinguished as the Great Freder- 
 ick, whom his subjects called their "father and benefactor," 
 
8 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 whose name was worthy to shine among the brightest stars of 
 heaven, his pale, thin lips just murmured, "Resignation!" 
 
 With downcast eyes he paced his cabinet, murmuring, " Let 
 us submit!" He would not look up to those who were gazing 
 down upon him from the walls — to those who were no more. 
 The remembrance of them unnerved him, and filled his heart 
 with grief. The experiences of life, and the ingratitude of 
 men, had left many a scar upon this royal heart, but had 
 never hardened it; it was still overflowing with tender sym- 
 pathy and cherished memories. To Lord-Marshal Keith, 
 Marquis d'Argens, and Voltaire, Frederick owed the happi- 
 est years of his life. 
 
 D'Argens, who passionately loved Frederick, had been 
 dead five years ; Lord-Marshal Keith one month ; and Voltaire 
 was dying! This intelligence the king had received that 
 very morning, from his Paris correspondent, Grimm. It was 
 this that filled his heart with mourning. The face, that 
 smiled so full of intelligence, was perhaps distorted with 
 agony, and those beaming eyes were now closing in death ! 
 
 Voltaire was dying! 
 
 Frederick's thoughts were with the dead and dying — with 
 the past! He recalled, when crown prince at Rheinsberg, 
 how much he had admired, loved, and distinguished Voltaire ; 
 how he rejoiced, and how honored he felt, when, as a young 
 king, Voltaire yielded to his request to live with him at Ber- 
 lin. This intimacy, it is true, did not long continue; the 
 king was forced to recognize, with bitter regret, that the 
 man Voltaire was not worthy the love which he bestowed 
 upon the poet. He renounced the man, but the poet was still 
 his admiration ; and all the perfidy, slander, and malice of 
 Voltaire, had never changed Frederick. The remembrance 
 of it had long since faded from his noble heart — only the 
 memory of the poet, of the author of so many hours of the 
 purest enjoyment, remained. 
 
 Voltaire was dying! 
 
 This great and powerful spirit, who so long a time, in the 
 
THE LONELY KING. 9 
 
 natural body, had instructed, inspired, and refreshed man- 
 kind, would leave that body to rise — whither? 
 
 "Immortality, what art thou?" asked the king, aloud, and 
 for the first time raising his eyes with an inquiring glance to 
 the busts of his friends. " I have sought for thee, I have 
 toiled for thee, my whole life long ! Neither the researches 
 of the learned, nor the subtleties of philosophy reveal thee to 
 me. Is there any other immortality than fame? Any other 
 eternal life than that which the memory of succeeding gener- 
 ations grants to the dead?" In this tone of thought Freder- 
 ick recited, audibly, the conclusion of a poem, which he had 
 addressed to D'Alembert: 
 
 M I have consecrated my days to philosophy, 
 I admit all the innocent pleasures of life; 
 And knowing that soon my course will finish, 
 I enjoy the present with fear of the future. 
 What is there to fear after death? 
 If the body and the mind suffer the same fate, 
 I shall return and mingle with nature; 
 If a remnant of my intellectual fire escapes death, 
 I will flee to the arms of my God." * 
 
 "And may this soon be granted me!" continued the king; 
 " then I shall be reunited to those loved ones — gone before. 
 I must be content to tarry awhile in this earthly vale of sor- 
 row, and finish the task assigned me by the Great Teacher; 
 therefore, let us submit." 
 
 He sighed ; pacing to and fro, his steps were arrested at a 
 side-table, where lay a long black velvet box ; it contained the 
 flute that his beloved teacher, Quantz, had made for him. 
 Frederick had always kept it in his cabinet as a memento of 
 his lost friend ; as this room he had devoted to a temple of 
 Memory — of the past ! 
 
 " Another of the joys, another of the stars of my life van- 
 ished!" murmured the king. " My charming concerts are at 
 an end! Quantz, Brenda, and my glorious Graun are no 
 more. While they are listening to the heavenly choir, I must 
 be content with the miserable, idle chatter of men; the thun- 
 
 * Posthumous works, vol. vii., p. 88. 
 
10 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 der of battle deafening my ears, to which that mad, ambitious 
 Emperor of Austria hopes to force me!" 
 
 As the king thus soliloquized, he involuntarily drew from 
 the box the beautiful ebony flute, exquisitely ornamented 
 with silver. A smile played around his delicate mouth. He 
 f raised the flute to his lips, and a melancholy strain floated 
 through the stillness — the king's requiem to the dead, his fare* 
 well to the dying! 
 
 No sound of the outer world penetrated that lonely room. 
 The guard of honor, on duty upon the Sans-Souci terrace, 
 halted suddenly, as the sad music fell upon his ear. The 
 fresh spring breeze swept through the trees, and drove the 
 laden-blossomed elder-bushes tapping against the window- 
 panes, as if to offer a May-greeting to the lonely king. The 
 servant in waiting stole on tiptoe to the door of the anteroom, 
 listening breathlessly at the key-hole to the moving melody. 
 
 Even Alkmene suddenly raised her head as if something 
 unusual were taking place, fixed her great eyes upon her mas- 
 ter, jumping upon his knee, and resting her fore-paws 
 lovingly upon his breast. 
 
 Frederick neither observed nor felt the movement of his 
 favorite ; his thoughts were absent from the present — absent 
 from the earth! They were wandering in the unknown 
 future, with the spirits of those he longed to see again in the 
 Elysian fields. 
 
 The wailing music of his flute expressed the lamentation of 
 his soul, and his eyes filled with tears as he raised them to the 
 bust of Voltaire, gazing at it with a look of pain until the 
 melody was finished. Then abruptly turning, half unwill- 
 ingly, half angrily, he returned the flute to the box, and stole 
 away, covering his face with his hands, as if to hide his 
 emotion from himself. 
 
 " Now we have finished with the dead, and the living claim 
 our thoughts," sighed the king. "What an absurd thing is 
 the human heart! It will never grow cold or old;, always 
 pretending to a spark of the fire which that shameful fellow 
 
THE LONELY KINO: 11 
 
 Prometheus stole from the gods. What an absurdity! What 
 have I, an old fellow, to do with the fire of Prometheus, when 
 the fire of war will soon rage around me." At this instant 
 the door gently opened. "What do you want, Muller? 
 What do you poke your stupid face in here for?" said the 
 king. 
 
 "Pardon me, your majesty," replied the footman, "the 
 Baron von Arnim begs for an audience." 
 
 " Bid him enter," commanded the king, sinking back in 
 his old, faded velvet arm-chair. Besting his chin upon his 
 Staff, he signed to the baron, who stood bowing upon the 
 threshold, to approach. "Well, Arnim, what is the matter? 
 What papers have you there?" 
 
 "Sire," answered Baron von Arnim, "the contract of the 
 Erench actors, which needs renewing, I have to lay before 
 your majesty; also a paper, received yesterday, from Madame 
 Mara; still another from the singer Conciliani, and a petition 
 from four persons from the opera." 
 
 "What stupid stuff!" growled the king, at the same time 
 bestowing a caress upon Alkmene. " Commence with your 
 report. Let us hear what those singers are now asking for." 
 
 " The singer Concialini has addressed a heart-breaking let- 
 ter to your majesty, and prays for an increase of salary — that 
 it is impossible for him to live upon three thousand dollars." 
 
 "Ah! that is what is wanted?" cried the king, furious, 
 and striking his staff upon the floor. " The fellow is mad ; 
 when he cannot live upon three thousand, he will not be able 
 to live upon four. I want money for cannon. I cannot 
 spend it for such nonsense. I am surprised, Von Arnim, 
 that you repeat such stuff to me." 
 
 " Your majesty, it is my duty that I — " 
 
 " What ! Your duty is not to flatter them. I pay them to 
 give me pleasure, not presumption. Remember, once for all, 
 do not flatter them. Conciliani will get no increase of sal- 
 ary. If he persists, let him go to the mischief ! This is my 
 decision. — Proceed! What is Madame Mara begging for?" 
 
12 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 " Madame Mara constantly refuses to sing the airs which 
 your majesty commanded to be introduced into the opera of 
 'Coriolanus.' She has taken the liberty to address you in 
 writing; here is the letter, if your majesty will have the 
 grace to read it." 
 
 "By no means, sir, by no means!" cried the king; at the 
 same instant catching the paper with his staff, he slung it 
 like a shot arrow to the farthest corner of the room, to the 
 great amusement of Alkmene, who, with a loud bark, sprang 
 from her master's knee, and with a bound caught the strange 
 bird, and tore it in pieces. "You are right, my pet," said 
 the king, laughing, " you have written my answer with your 
 nose to this arrogant person. Director, say to Madame Mara 
 that I pay her to sing, not to write. She must sing both airs, 
 or she may find herself at Spandau for her obstinacy, where 
 her husband is, for the same reason. She can reflect, and 
 judge for herself." 
 
 The director could scarcely repress a sigh, foreboding the 
 disagreeable scene that he would have to encounter with the 
 proud and passionate singer. Timidly Von Arnim alluded to 
 the four persons from the opera. " Who are these demoiselles, 
 and what do they want?" asked the king. 
 
 "Sire," replied the Baron von Arnim, "they are the four 
 persons who personate the role of court ladies and maids of 
 honor to the queens and princesses. They beg your majesty 
 to secure to them a fixed income." 
 
 "Indeed! Go to my writing-table and bring paper and 
 pencil ; I will dictate a reply to them," said the king. " Now 
 write, Von Arnim: 'To the four court ladies and maids of 
 honor of the opera : You are mistaken in addressing your- 
 selves to me ; the affair of your salaries concerns your em- 
 perors and kings. To them you must address yourselves. — 
 Adieu.'" 
 
 Von Arnim could scarcely repress a smile. 
 
 " Now we come to the last affair — the salaries and pensions 
 of the French actors," said the king; "but first tell me the 
 
THE LONELY KINO. 13 
 
 news in Berlin — what report has trumpeted forth in the last 
 few days." 
 
 "Your majesty, the latest news in Berlin, which rumor 
 brings home to every hearth-side and every heart is, that your 
 majesty has declared war with Austria on account of the 
 Bavarian succession. Every one rejoices, sire, that you will 
 humble that proud and supercilious house of Austria, and 
 enter the lists for Germany." 
 
 " Listen!" answered the king, sternly. " I did not ask you 
 to blow the trumpet of praise, as if your honor, inspector of 
 the theatres, thought yourself upon the stage, and would 
 commence a comedy with the king of lamps. So it is known 
 then that my soldiers will enter the great theatre of war, and 
 that we are about to fight real battles." 
 
 " It is known, sire," replied Von Arnim, bowing. 
 
 " Then what I am about to communicate to you will not 
 surprise you. The present juncture of affairs leads us to 
 await very grave scenes — we can well dispense with comedy. 
 I withdraw the salaries and pensions of the French actors — 
 your own is included. After you have dismissed the French 
 comedians, you will be entirely at leisure to pursue your love- 
 intrigues. — Farewell !" 
 
 " Your majesty," cried the baron, amazed, " has your high- 
 ness dismissed me?" 
 
 " Are you deaf, or have you some of the cotton in your ears 
 which I presented to you at your recall from Copenhagen?" 
 replied the king.* 
 
 " Sire, I have heard all, but I cannot believe it. " 
 
 44 Yes, yes," interrupted the king, "To believe is difficult; 
 
 * Baron von Arnim was ambassador to Copenhagen until 1754, when he begged for 
 his recall, stating that the damp climate was injurious to his health. The king 
 granted his request, and the baron returned to Berlin. At the first audience with the 
 king, Frederick handed Baron von Arnim a caref ully-packed box, saying, " I do not 
 wish tbe government to lose so valuable a servant; in this box you will find something 
 that will keep you warm." Arnim could scarcely await his return home, to open the 
 box; it contained nothing but cotton. Some days afterward, however, the king in- 
 creased Von ArninTs income a thousand dollars, and sent him ambassador to Dres- 
 den. Von Arnim was afterward director of the Royal Theatre until dismissed in th# 
 above manner. 
 
14 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 you, I presume, never belonged to the pions and believing. 
 Yonr intrigues would not admit of it; but now you have the 
 leisure to pursue them with a right good-will. You have 
 only to discharge, as I have said, the entire French troupe, 
 and the whole thing is done with. — Adieu, Arnim, may you 
 be prospered!" 
 
 Baron von Arnim muttered some incomprehensible words, 
 and retreated from the royal presence. The door had scarcely 
 closed, when it was again opened without ceremony by a young 
 man, wearing a gold-laced dress. 
 
 "Your majesty," said he, hastily, in an undertone, "your 
 majesty, she has just gone to the Palace Park, just the same 
 hour she went yesterday." 
 
 " Is she alone?" asked the king, rising. 
 
 " No, she is not alone ; at a little distance the nurse fol- 
 lows with the princely infant!" 
 
 The king cast an angry glance at the saucy, laughing face 
 of the young man, who at once assumed a devoted, earnest 
 mien. " Has your majesty any further commands?" asked he, 
 timidly. 
 
 " I command you to hold your tongue until you are spoken 
 to!" replied the king, harshly. " You understand spying and 
 hanging about, as you have good ears, a quick eye, and a keen 
 scent. I therefore make use of you, because I need a spy; 
 but, understand that a fellow who allows himself to be used 
 as a spy, is, indeed, a useful subject, but generally a worthless 
 one, and to whom it is becoming to be modest and humble. 
 I am now going to Berlin ; you will accompany me. Take off 
 your finery, so that every one may not recognize at once the 
 peacock by his feathers. Go to the taverns and listen to what 
 they say about the war; whether the people are much dis- 
 satisfied about it. Keep your great ears wide open, and bring 
 me this evening all the latest news. Go, now, tell my coach- 
 man to be ready; in half an hour I shall set off." 
 
 The young man slunk away to the door, but stood without 
 opening it, his head down, and his under-lip hanging out. 
 
THE LONELY KING. 15 
 
 "What is the matter?" asked the king, in a milder tone, 
 "why do you not go, Kretzschmar?" 
 
 " I cannot go away if yonr majesty is angry with me," mut- 
 tered the servant, insolently. " I do not wish to hear or see 
 any thing more for you when your majesty abuses me, and 
 considers me such a mean, base fellow. Your majesty first 
 commanded me to listen, and spy, and now that I am obey- 
 ing, I am despised and scolded for it. I will have nothing 
 more to do with it, and I wish your majesty to leave me a 
 simple footman rather than to accord me such a mean 
 position." 
 
 "I did not mean so badly," said the king. "I mean well 
 enough for you ; but you must not permit yourself to be ar- 
 rogant or disrespectful, otherwise you may go to Tophet! 
 You are no common spy, you are listening about a little be- 
 cause you know I am fond of hearing what the people are 
 saying, and what is going on in Berlin and Potsdam. But 
 take care that they know nothing about it, otherwise they 
 will be careful, and you will hear nothing. Now be off, and 
 in order to see a cheerful face on you, I will make you a pres- 
 ent." The king drew from his vest-pocket a purse, well filled 
 with small coin, and gave it to the young man, who took it, 
 though he still looked angry and insolent. " Do not let your 
 under-lip hang down so, for I may step upon it," said the 
 king. " Put the money in your pocket, and hurry off to tell 
 old Pfund to harness quickly, or I shall not arrive in time at 
 the park." 
 
 " There is no danger, your majesty, for the miss seems very 
 fond of the promenade ; she remained two hours in the park 
 yesterday, always walking in the most quiet places, as if she 
 were afraid to meet any one. She sat a whole hour on the 
 iron seat by the Carp Pond, and then she went to the Philos- 
 opher's Walk, and skipped about like a young colt." 
 
 " You are a very cunning fellow, and know how to use your 
 eyes well," said the king. " Now be off, and order the car- 
 riage. " 
 
16 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 WILHELMIKE ENKE, 
 
 The Palace Park was as qniet and deserted as usual. Not 
 a voice, not a sound, disturbed the stillness of those silent 
 walks. For this reason, undoubtedly, a young lady had 
 sought it; at least her whole being expressed satisfaction and 
 delight to wander unobserved through those quiet, shady 
 alleys. She was of slight and elegant proportions, simply at- 
 tired, without pretension, in a dark dress of some thin silk 
 material. Her black silk mantle was thrown aside upon the 
 stone seat near her, uncovering thus, in solitude, to the sun 
 and birds, her lovely neck and arms, the beauty of which 
 might rival the statues of the ancients. Her face was not of 
 regular beauty, yet it possessed that expression of grace, 
 spirit, and energy, which is oftener a more powerful and more 
 enduring charm than regular beauty. Her large, expressive 
 black eyes possessed a wonderful power, and her red, pouting 
 lips wore a sweet smile ; her fine Eoman nose lent an air of 
 decision, whilst her high-arched forehead led one to believe 
 that daring, energetic thought lay hidden beneath those clus- 
 ters of brown curls. She was not in the bloom of youth, but 
 at twenty-five she appeared younger than many beauties at 
 eighteen ; and if her form no longer possessed the charm of 
 girlhood, it was attractive from its suppleness and full, beauti- 
 ful bust. 
 
 "Louisa, Louisa, where are you?" cried the young lady, 
 stepping quickly forward toward a side-path, which led from 
 the broad avenue, and at the end of which was a sunny grass- 
 plot. 
 
 "Here I am, miss; I am coming." 
 
 "Miss," murmured the young lady, "how dreadfully it 
 sounds! The blush of shame rises to my face, for it sounds 
 like bitter mockery and contempt, and brings my whole life 
 
WILHELMINE ENKE. 17 
 
 before me. Yet, I must endure it — and I scarcely wish it 
 were otherwise. Ah, there you are, Louisa, and there is my 
 beautiful boy," she cried, with a glad voice, hastening toward 
 the peasant- woman and bending fondly over her child. " How 
 beautiful and how knowing he looks ! It seems as if my little 
 Alexander began to recognize me — he looks so earnest and 
 sensible." 
 
 "He knows you, miss," said the nurse, courtesying, "and 
 he knows, like other children, who loves him. Children and 
 dogs know who love them. The children cry, and the dogs 
 hide themselves when people are around who dislike them." 
 
 "Nonsense, Louisa!" laughed the young lady, as she bent 
 to kiss her child — " nonsense! did not my little boy cry when 
 his father took him yesterday? And he loves his child most 
 tenderly, as only a father can." 
 
 "Oh, there is another reason for that," said the nurse. 
 " He has just passed his first stupid three months, and he be- 
 gins to hear and see what passes around him, and it was the 
 first man's face that he had seen. But only look, miss, what 
 a beautiful little dog is coming up tne path." It was indeed 
 a lovely greyhound, of the small Italian race, which came 
 bounding joyfully toward them, and as he saw the woman 
 barked loudly. 
 
 "Be quiet, Alkmene, be quiet!" cried a loud, commanding 
 voice. 
 
 "Oh, Heaven! it is the king!" whispered the young lady, 
 turning pale, and, as if stunned, retreated a few steps. 
 
 "Yes, it is really the king," cried the nurse, "and he i» 
 coming directly from the grass-plot here." 
 
 " Let us go as quickly as possible, Louisa. Come, come," 
 and she hastily threw her mantle around her, drawing the hood 
 over her curly head. She had only proceeded a few steps, when 
 a loud voice bade her to remain — to stand still. She stood as 
 if rooted to the spot, leaning upon her nurse for support; her 
 knees sank under her, and it seemed as if the whole world 
 turned around with her. After the first tumult of anxiety 
 
18 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 and fear, succeeded an insolent determination, and, forcing 
 herself to calmness, she said : " It is the turning-point of my 
 life ; the next few minutes will either crush me or assure my 
 future ; let me struggle for the future, then. I will face him 
 who approaches me as my judge." Forcing herself to com- 
 posure, slowly and with effort she turned toward the king, 
 who, approaching by the side path, had entered the avenue, 
 and now stood before her. But as she encountered the fiery 
 glance of the king's eye, she quailed before it, casting down 
 her own, covered with confusion. 
 
 " Who are you?" demanded the king, with stern authority, 
 keeping his eagle eye fixed upon her. Silent and immovable 
 she stood ; only the quick, feverish breathing and the heaving 
 bosom told the storm that was raging within. 
 
 "Who are you?" repeated the voice, with still more sever- 
 ity — " who permit themselves to use my park as a nursery? 
 What child is that? and who are its parents? They should 
 be of high position at court, who would dare to send their 
 child and nurse to the royal park ; and with what joy they 
 must regard the offspring of their conjugal tenderness! Tell 
 me to whom does this child belong?" 
 
 Sobbing convulsively, the lady sank, kneeling, with uplifted 
 arms, imploring for mercy. " Sire, annihilate me with your 
 anger, but do not crush me with your scorn!" 
 
 "What language do you permit yourself to hold?" asked 
 the king. 
 
 " Sire, it is the language of an unhappy, despairing woman, 
 who knows that she stands before that great monarch whose 
 judgment she fears more than that of her God, who sees into 
 her heart, and reads the tortures and reproaches of her con- 
 science; who knows what she suffers, and knows, also, that 
 she is free from self-interest, and every base desire. I believe 
 that God will forgive what I fear your majesty will not. " 
 
 " You speak presumptuously, and remind me of the theatre 
 princesses who represent a grand scene with a pathetic exit. 
 Let me inform you, I despise comedians — only high tragedy 
 
WILHELMINE ENKE. 19 
 
 pleases me. Spare yourself the trouble to act before me, but 
 answer me — who are you? Whose child is that?" 
 
 " Sire, only God and my king should hear my reply — I beg 
 the favor to send away the nurse and child." The king as- 
 sented, slightly nodding his head, at the same time bidding 
 her not to kneel to him as to an image. 
 
 The lady rose and sought the nurse, who, from fright, had 
 withdrawn into the shrubbery, and stood staring at the king 
 with wide-open eyes. " Go home, Louisa, and put the child 
 to sleep," said she, quickly. 
 
 The nurse obeyed promptly, and when alone, the king de- 
 manded again, "Who are you? and to whom does the child 
 belong?" 
 
 " Your majesty, I am the daughter of your chapel musician 
 Enke, and the child is the son of Prince Frederick William 
 of Prussia," she replied, in a firm and defiant manner. 
 
 The king's eyes flashed as he glanced at the bold speaker. 
 "You say so, but who vouches for the truth of it? You per- 
 mit yourself to use a high name, to give your child an honor- 
 able father ! What temerity ! what presumption ! What if I 
 should not believe you, but send you to the house of correc- 
 tion, at Spandau, as a slanderer, as guilty of high-treason, as 
 a sinner and an adulteress?" 
 
 "You could not do it, sire — you could not," cried Wilhel- 
 mine Enke, " for you would also send there the honor and the 
 name of your successor to the throne." 
 
 "What do you mean?" cried the king, furiously. 
 
 " I mean, your majesty, that the prince has holy duties 
 toward me. I am the mother of that child!" 
 
 " You acknowledge your shame, and you dare confess it to 
 me, your king, that you are the favorite, the kept mistress of 
 the Prince of Prussia, who has already a wife that has borne 
 him children? You do not even seek to deny it, or to excuse 
 yourself?" 
 
 " I would try to excuse myself, did I not feel that your 
 majesty would not listen to me." 
 
20 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 " What excuse could you offer? — there is none." 
 
 "Love is my excuse," cried Wilhelmine, eagerly. "Oh! 
 my ruler and king, do not shake your noble head so unbeliev- 
 ingly ; do not look at me so contemptuously. Oh, Father in 
 heaven, I implore Thee to quicken my mind, that my thoughts 
 may become words, and my lips utter that which is burning 
 in my soul ! In all these years of my poor, despised, obscure 
 life, how often have I longed for this hour when I might 
 stand before my king, when I might penitently clasp his knees 
 and implore mercy for myself and my children — those poor, 
 nameless beings, whose existence is my accusation, and yet 
 who are the pride and joy of my life ! Oh, sire, I will not ac- 
 cuse, to excuse myself; I will not cast the stone at others 
 which they have cast at me. But it is scarcely charitable to 
 judge and condemn a young girl fourteen years of age, who 
 did but obey the command of her parents, and followed the 
 man who was the first and only one that ever whispered the 
 word of love in her ear." 
 
 " I have heard that your parents sold their child to shame. 
 Is it true?" cried the king. 
 
 "Sire, my father was poor; the scanty income of a chapel 
 musician scarcely sufficed to educate and support four chil- 
 dren. The prince promised my father to educate me." 
 
 " Bah ! The promises of a young man of twenty-five are 
 made without reflection, and rarely ever fulfilled." 
 
 Sire, to the Prince of Prussia I owe all that I know, and 
 all that I am; his promise to my dying father was fully 
 redeemed." 
 
 "Indeed, by whom were you taught, and what have you 
 learned?" 
 
 Your majesty, the prince wished, before all, that I should 
 iearn to speak French. Madame Girard was my French in- 
 structress, and taught me to play the guitar and spinet also." 
 Oh, I presume you have learned to jabber a little French 
 and drum a little music," said the king, shrugging his 
 shoulders. 
 
WILHELMINE ENKE. 21 
 
 " I beg pardon, sire ; I have a tolerable knowledge of his- 
 tory and of geography. I am familiar with the ancient and 
 modern poets. I have read a good French translation of Ho- 
 mer, Horace, and Virgil, with a master. I have studied the his- 
 tory of Brandenburg, of Germany, and of America. We have 
 read the immortal works of Voltaire, of Jean Jacques Rous- 
 seau, and of Shakespeare, with many of our modern poets. 
 My instructor has read all these works aloud to me, and he- 
 was much pleased when I repeated parts of what he had read 
 to me some days afterward." 
 
 "You appear to have had a very learned instr actor," re- 
 marked the king, sneeringly. " What is his name?" 
 
 " His name, sire, is Prince Frederick William of Prussia. 
 Yes, it is he who has taught me — he who has made me an in- 
 telligent woman. However young he was when he undertook 
 the task, he has accomplished it with fidelity, firmness, and 
 patience. He loved me, and would make me worthy of him, 
 in heart and mind. I shall ever be grateful to him, and only 
 death can extinguish the love and esteem with which he in- 
 spires me." 
 
 " Suppose I command you to leave the prince? Suppose I 
 will no longer endure the scandal of this sinful relation?" 
 
 " I shall never willingly separate myself from my dear prince 
 and master — from the father of my two children. Your 
 majesty will be obliged to force me from him," answered Wil- 
 helmine, defiantly. 
 
 M Oh, that will not be necessary, mademoiselle," cried the 
 king. "There are ways enough. I will make known my 
 wishes to the prince ; I will command him to leave you, and 
 have no further communication with you." 
 
 "Sire," she answered, gently, "I know that the prince is 
 an obedient and respectful subject and servant to his king in 
 all things, but this command he would not obey." 
 
 " He would not dare to brave my commands!" 
 
 "He would not brave them, sire. Oh, no^; it would be 
 simply impossible to obey them." 
 
22 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 " What would hinder him?" 
 
 " Love, sire ; the respect which he owes to me as the mother 
 of his two children — who has consecrated her love, her honor 
 to him, and of whom no one can say that she has injured the 
 fidelity which she has sworn to the prince — to the man of her 
 first and only love — even with a word or look." 
 
 " You mean to say that I cannot separate you from the 
 prince but by force?" 
 
 "Yes, your majesty," cried she, with conscious power, 
 "that is exactly what I mean." 
 
 "You will find yourself deceived; you will be made to 
 realize it," said the king, with a menacing tone. " You know 
 nothing of the power that lies in a legitimate marriage, and 
 what rivals legitimate children are, whom one dares acknowl- 
 edge before God — before the world. Boast not of the love of 
 the prince, but remember that an honorable solitude is the 
 only situation becoming to you. Such connections bear their 
 own curse and punishment with them. Hasten to avoid 
 them. Lastly, I would add, never dare to mingle your im- 
 pure hands in the affairs of state. I have been obliged to give 
 the order to the state councillors in appointments and grants 
 of office, not to regard the protection and recommendation of 
 a certain high personage, as you are the real protectress and 
 bestower of mercy. Take care, and never let it happen again. 
 You will never venture to play the little Pompadour here, nor 
 anything else but what your dishonor allows you ; otherwise 
 you will have to deal with me ! You say that you have read 
 Homer ; then, doubtless, you remember the story of Penelope, 
 who, from conjugal fidelity, spun and wove, undoing at night 
 what she had woven by day. It is true, you bear little resem- 
 blance to this chaste dame, but you might emulate her in 
 spinning and weaving ; and if you are not in future retiring, 
 I can easily make a modern Penelope of you, and have you 
 instructed in spinning, for which you will have the best of 
 opportunities in the house of correction at Spandau. Ee- 
 member this, and never permit yourself to practise protection. 
 
WILHELMINE ENKE. 23 
 
 I will keep the spinning-wheel and the wool ready for you ; 
 that you may count upon. Remember, also, that it is very 
 disagreeable to me that you visit my park, as I like to breathe 
 pure air. Direct your promenade elsewhere, and avoid meet- 
 ing me in future." 
 
 "Your majesty, I — " 
 
 "Silence! I have heard sufficient. You have nothing 
 more to say to me. Go, hide your head, that no one may 
 rcognize your shame, or the levity of the prince. Go — and, 
 .tare well forever!" He motioned impatiently to her to retire, 
 fastening his eyes with a fiery, penetrating glance upon her 
 (jaie, agitated face, her bowed, humble attitude, and still con- 
 tinued to regard her as she painfully dragged herself down 
 the walk, as if her limbs were giving way under her. Long 
 stood the king gazing after her, resting upon his staff; and 
 as she disappeared at the end of the walk, he still stood there 
 immovable. By degrees his face assumed a milder expression. 
 "He who is free from sin, let him cast the first stone at her," 
 said the king, softened, as he slowly turned down the path 
 which would lead to his carriage, waiting outside the park. 
 
 Frederick was lost in thought, and addressed no conver- 
 sation to the equerry, Von Schwerin, who sat opposite to him. 
 But as they drove through the beautiful street Unten den 
 Linden, at Berlin, Frederick glanced at the equerry, and 
 found that he had fallen asleep, wearied with the long silence 
 and the monotony of the drive. The king spoke to Alkmene, 
 loud and earnestly, until Herr von Schwerin, awakened and 
 startled, glanced at the king, frightened, and trying to dis- 
 cover whether his fearful crime against etiquette would draw 
 upon him the royal censure. Frederick, however, appeared 
 not to notice his fright, and spoke kindly to him : " Did you 
 not tell me, Schwerin, that Count Schmettau would sell his 
 country residence at Charlottenburg?" 
 
 " At your service, your majesty, he asked me to purchase 
 it, or find him a purchaser." 
 
 "How much is it worth?" 
 
24 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 "Sire, Count Schmettau demands eight thousand dollars 
 for it. There is a beautiful park belonging to it, and the 
 house is worthy the name of a castle, so large is it." 
 
 Why do you not buy it, if the count offered it to you?" 
 
 The equerry assumed a sad mien, and answered, sighing : 
 " Sire, I should be the happiest of men if I could buy that 
 charming residence, and it would be a real blessing to me if I 
 could enjoy in summer at times the fresh air. My finances 
 unfortunately, do not allow such expenses, as I am not rich, 
 and have a large family." 
 
 "Then you are right not to spend money unnecessarily," 
 said the king, quietly. " You can have as much fresh air at 
 Potsdam as can ever enter your mouth, and it costs neither 
 you nor I any thing. Say to Count Schmettau that you have 
 a purchaser for his residence at Charlottenburg. " 
 
 "Oh, you are really too kind," cried the equerry, in an 
 excitement of joy; " I do not know — " 
 
 Here the carriage entered the palace court, and the con- 
 cluding words were inaudible. Herr von Schwerin alighted 
 quickly to assist the king. "Say to Schmettau to present 
 himself to my treasurer and cabinet councillor, Menkon, to- 
 morrow morning at twelve o'clock, at Sans-Souci." 
 
 The king nodded kindly to the equerry, and passed into 
 the Swiss saloon, and farther on into the private rooms which 
 he was accustomed to occupy whenever he remained at the cap- 
 ital. The Swiss saloon was fast filling, not alone with the gen- 
 erals and staff-officers of the Berlin garrison, but with the 
 officers of the regiments from the provinces, who presented 
 themselves at the palace according to the order of the king. 
 The most of them were old and worn out, body and mind. 
 They all looked morose and sorrowful. The great news of the 
 approaching war with Austria had spread through the mili- 
 tary. The old laurel-crowned generals of the Seven Years' 
 War were unwilling to go forth to earn new laurels, for which 
 they had lost all ambition. Not one dared betray his secret 
 thoughts to another, or utter a word of disapproval. The 
 
WILHELMINE ENKE. 25 
 
 king's spies were everywhere, and none could trust himself to 
 converse with his neighbor, as he might prove to be one of 
 them. There reigned an anxious, oppressive silence; the 
 generals and staff-officers exchanged the ordinary greetings. 
 All eyes were turned toward the door through which the king 
 would enter, bowed down, like his generals, with the cares of 
 life, and the burden of old age. The king slowly entered. 
 He was, indeed, an old man, like those he came amongst, and 
 now saluted. An expression of imperishable youth lighted 
 up his pale, sunken face, and his eyes flashed with as much 
 daring and fire as thirty-eight years before, when he had as- 
 sembled his young officers around him in this very hall, to 
 announce to them that he would march against Austria. 
 How many wars, how many battles, how many illusions, vic- 
 tories, and defeats had the king experienced in these thirty- 
 eight years ! How little the youthful, fiery king of that day 
 resembled the weak old man of to-day ; how little in common 
 the young King Frederick had with " Alten Fritz." And now 
 in this feeble body dwelt the same courageous spirit. In the 
 course of these years King Frederick II. had become Freder- 
 ick the Great! And great he was to-day, this little old 
 man — great in his intentions and achievements, never heed- 
 ing his own debility and need of repose. All his thoughts 
 and endeavors concentrated on the welfare of his people and 
 his country — on the greatness and glory of Germany. Those 
 eyes which now glanced over the circle of generals were still 
 flashing as those of the hero-king whose look had disarmed 
 the lurking assassin, and confounded the distinguished savant 
 in the midst of his eloquence, so that he stammered and was 
 silent. He was still Frederick the Great, who, leaning upon 
 his staff, was surrounded by his generals, whom he called to 
 fight for their fatherland, for Germany ! 
 
 " Gentlemen," said the king, " I have called you together to 
 
 announce to you that we must go forth to new wars, and, 
 
 God willing, to new victories. The Emperor of Austria forces 
 
 me to it, for, against all laws and customs, and against all 
 
 8 
 
26 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 rights of kingdoms, he thinks to bring German territory into 
 the possession of the house of Hapsburg. Gharles Theodore, 
 prince- elector, having no children, has concluded a treaty 
 with the Emperor Joseph, that at his death the electorate of 
 Bavaria will fall to Austria. In consequence thereof an Aus- 
 trian army has marched into Bavaria, and garrisoned the 
 frontier. — The prince-elector, Duke Charles Theodore, was not 
 authorized to proceed thus, for, though he had no children 
 to succeed him, he had a lawful successor in his brother's son, 
 Duke Charles von Zweibriicken. Electoral Saxony and Meck- 
 lenburg have well-founded pretensions, even if Zweibriicken 
 were not existing. All these princes have addressed them- 
 selves to me, and requested me to represent them to the em- 
 peror and to the imperial government — to protect them in 
 their injured rights. I have first tried kindness and per- 
 suasion to bring back Austria from her desire of aggrandize- 
 ment, but in Vienna they have repulsed every means of 
 peaceable arbitration. I, as one of the rulers of the empire 
 (and as I have reaffirmed the Westphalian treaty through the 
 Hubertsburger treaty), feel bound to preserve the privileges, 
 the rights, the liberty of the German states. I have therefore 
 well reflected, and decided to draw the sword — that what the 
 diplomats have failed to arrange with the pen should be set- 
 tled with the sword. These are my reasons, gentlemen, which 
 make it my duty to assemble an army ; therefore I have called 
 you together." His fiery eyes flashed around the circle, peer- 
 ing into the thin, withered faces of his generals, and en- 
 countering everywhere a grave, earnest mien. 
 
 The king repressed with an effort a sigh ; then continued, 
 with a mild voice : " My feeble old age does not allow me to 
 travel as in my fiery youth. I shall use a post-carriage, and 
 you, gentlemen, have the liberty to do the same. On the day 
 of battle you will find me mounted ; you will follow my ex- 
 ample. Until then, farewell!" * 
 
 "Long live the king!" cried General von Krokow; and all 
 
 ♦The king's words.— See " Prussia, Frederick the Great," vol. iii. 
 
FREDERICK WILLIAM. 27 
 
 the generals who formerly joined in this cry of the Prussian 
 warrior, now repeated it in weak, trembling tones. Frederick 
 smiled a recognition, bowing on all sides, then turned slowly 
 away, leaning upon his staff. 
 
 When once more alone, the youthful expression faded from 
 his eyes, and the gloomy shadows of old age settled down 
 upon his thoughtful brow. " They have all grown old and 
 morose," said he, mildly, "they will not show any more hero- 
 ism ; the fire of ambition is quenched in their souls ! A warm 
 stove must warm their old limbs. Oh ! it is a pitiful thing 
 to grow old ; and still they call themselves the images of God ! 
 Poor boasters, who, with a breath of the Almighty, are over- 
 turned and bent as a blade of grass in the sand !" 
 
 "Your majesty, may I come in?" asked a gentle, happy 
 child' 8 voice. 
 
 The king turned hastily toward the door, so softly opened, 
 and there stood a charming little boy, in the uniform of a 
 flag-bearer, with the cap upon his head, and a neat little 
 sword by his side. "Yes, you may enter," nodded the king 
 kindly to him. " You know I sent for you, my little flag- 
 bearer." 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 FREDERICK WILLIAM. 
 
 The little flag-bearer skipped into the room with graceful 
 vivacity, and sprang, with a merry bound, up to the king, 
 took his hand without ceremony, and pressed it to his lips. 
 Then, raising up his head and shaking back his light-brown 
 curls from his rosy cheeks, his bright-blue eyes sparkling, he 
 looked him full in the face. " Your majesty, you say that 
 you sent for me ; but I must tell you that if you had not sent 
 for me I would have come here alone, and begged so long at 
 the door, that vou would have let me come in!" 
 
28 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 "And what if I would not have let yon come in at all?" 
 said the king, smiling. 
 
 The little flag-bearer reflected a moment, then answered 
 with a confident air : " Yonr majesty, I would have forced 
 open the door, thrown myself at your feet, and kissed your 
 hand, saying, 'My king, my dear great-uncle, I must com© 
 in to thank you a thousand times for the flag-bearer's com- 
 mission you have sent me, and for the beautiful uniform.' 
 Then I would see if your majesty had the courage to send me 
 away." 
 
 " Let me see, my prince — do you think my courage could 
 fail me upon any occasion?" 
 
 "Yes, in bad things," zealously cried the prince, "and it 
 would be bad if you would not let me thank you. I am so 
 happy with the commission and the beautiful uniform which 
 you so graciously sent to me ! Tell me, your majesty, do I 
 not look beautifully?" The boy straightened his elegant, 
 slender form, and saluted the king, putting the two fingers of 
 his right hand upon his cap. 
 
 "Yes, yes," said Frederick, "you look very nicely, my 
 prince ; but it is not enough that you look well — you must 
 behave well. From a flag-bearer in my army I expect very 
 different things than from any common child. Who wears 
 my uniform must prove himself worthy of the honor. " 
 
 "Your majesty," cried the prince, " I assure you, upon my 
 word of honor, that I have no bad marks when I wear the 
 uniform. Your majesty can ask my tutor. He came with 
 me, and waits in the anteroom to speak with you. He will 
 tell you that I have a good report." 
 
 "Very well, we will call him presently," said Frederick, 
 smiling. "Now we will chat a little together. Tell me 
 whether you are very industrious, and if you are learning 
 anything of consequence?" 
 
 " Sire, I must learn, even if I had no inclination to ; Herr 
 Behnisch leaves me no peace. I have scarcely time to play. I 
 am always learning to read, to write, to cipher, and to work." 
 
FREDERICK WILLIAM. 29 
 
 "How abont the geography and universal history?" 
 
 "Oh, your majesty, I wish there were no geography and 
 history in the world, and then I should not have to study so 
 cruelly hard, and I could play more. My mother sent me last 
 week a new battledore and shuttlecock, but I can never learn 
 to play with it. I no sooner begin, than Herr Behnisch calls 
 me to study. To-day I was very cunning — oh, I was so sly! 
 I put it in the great-pocket of my tutor's coat, and he brought 
 it here without knowing it. " 
 
 " That was very naughty," said the king, a little severely. 
 
 The prince colored, and, a little frightened, said : " Sire, 
 I could not bring it any other way. I beg pardon, the uni- 
 form is so tight, and then — then, I thought it would be dis- 
 honoring it to put a shuttlecock in the cartridge-box." 
 
 " That was a good thought, prince, and for that I will for- 
 give you the trick upon your tutor. But what will you do 
 with the ball here? Why did you bring it?" 
 
 " Oh, I wished to show it to your majesty, it is so beauti- 
 ful, and then beg you to let me play a little." 
 
 "We will see, Fritz," said the king, much pleased. "If 
 you deserve it, that shall be your reward. Tell me the truth, 
 is your tutor satisfied with you?" 
 
 " Sire, Herr Behnisch is never really pleased, but he has 
 not scolded me much lately, so I must have been pretty good. 
 One day he wrote 'Bien' under my French exercise. Oh, I 
 was so happy that I spent six groschen of the thaler my father 
 gave me a little while since, and bought two pots of gilly- 
 flowers, one for myself and one for my little brother Henry, 
 that he should have a souvenir of my *Bien!' " 
 
 "That was right," said the king, nodding approvingly. 
 " When you are good, you must always let your friends and 
 Telations take part in it; keep the bad only for yourself." 
 
 * I will remember that, and I thank you for the kind 
 instruction." 
 
 " The studies seem to go very well, but how is it with the 
 behavior? They tell me that the prince is not always polite 
 
30 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 to his visitors ; that he is sometimes very rude, even to the 
 officers who pay their respects to him on his father's account, 
 and on my account, not on his own, for what do they care for 
 such a little snip as he? They go to honor Prince Frederick 
 William of Prussia, though he is only a little flag-bearer. 
 They tell me that you do not appreciate the honor, but that 
 at Easter you behaved very badly." 
 
 11 Sire, it is true ; I cannot deny it — I did behave badly," 
 sighed the little prince. 
 
 "What was the matter?" asked the king. "It was not 
 from fear, I hope? I should be very angry at that. Tell me 
 vourself, and tell me the truth." 
 
 "Your majesty can depend upon the whole truth. My 
 tutor says that lying is despicable, and that a prince who will 
 one day be a king should be too proud to tell a lie ! I will 
 tell you all about it. The officers came to see me at Easter, 
 just as I had put the Easter eggs in the garden, for my little 
 brother and some other boys whom I had invited to hunt for 
 them. I had spent my last six groschen for the eggs, and I 
 anticipated so much pleasure with the hide-and-seek for them. 
 We had just begun, when the officers came. " 
 
 " That was really unfortunate," said the king, sympathiz- 
 ingly. 
 
 " Yes, sire, very disagreeable, and I could not possibly feel 
 kindly. While the officers were talking, I was always wishing 
 they would go. But they stayed and stayed — and when 
 Major von Werder began to make a long speech to me, and I 
 thought there was no end to it, I became impatient and 
 furious — and — " 
 
 "Why do you hesitate?" asked the king, looking tenderly 
 at the frank, glowing face of the boy. " What happened?" 
 
 "Something dreadful, sire! I could not keep in any 
 longer. The major kept on talking, and looked at me so 
 sharply, I could not help making an abominable face. It is 
 unfortunately true — I ran my tongue out at him — only just a 
 little bit — and I drew it back in an instant ; but it was done, 
 
FREDERICK WILLIAM. 31 
 
 and a dreadful scene followed. The major did not say any 
 thing, my tutor was red as fire, and I was thunderstruck!" 
 
 " That was excessively rude, my little flag- bearer," cried 
 the king. 
 
 The young prince was so ashamed, and was looking down so 
 penitently, that he did not see the smile on Frederick's face, 
 and the affectionate look with which he regarded the youthful 
 sinner. 
 
 " Do you know that you deserve to be imprisoned fourteen 
 days, and live on bread and water, for insubordination?" 
 
 " I know it now, sire. I beg pardon most humbly," said 
 the prince, with quivering voice and with tears in his eyes. 
 " I have been punished enough, without that. Herr Behnisch 
 would not let me go to the garden again, and I have never 
 seen the eggs which I spent my last groschen for, nor the 
 boys whom I had invited. I was made to stay in my room all 
 Easter week, learn twenty Latin words every day, and write 
 three pages of German words in good handwriting. It was 
 a hard punishment, but I knew that I deserved it, and did 
 not complain. I only thought that I would do better in 
 future." 
 
 " If you thought so, and you have already been punished, 
 we will say no more about it," said the king. " But tell me, 
 how did you get on at Whitsuntide, when the officers paid 
 you their respects again?" 
 
 "Your majesty," answered the prince, "it was a great deal 
 better ; I behaved tolerably well, except a very little rudeness, 
 which was not so bad after all.* Herr Behnisch did not 
 punish me ; he only said, another time, that I should do bet- 
 ter, and not be so taciturn, but greet the gentlemen in a 
 more friendly manner. I must tell you, sire, that when Herr 
 Behnisch does not scold, it is a sure sign that I have behaved 
 pretty well; and this time he did not." 
 
 "Fritz, I believe you," said the king, "and you shall have 
 the reward that you asked for — stay here and play a little 
 
 •The little prince's own words.— See " Diary of Prince Frederick William," p. 18. 
 
32 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 while. Go, now, and call your tutor ; I have a few words to 
 say to him." 
 
 The little prince sprang toward the door, but suddenly 
 stopped, embarrassed. 
 
 " What is the matter?" asked the king. " Why do you not 
 call your tutor?" 
 
 " Sire, I am very much troubled. Herr Behnisch will be 
 very angry when you tell him about the shuttlecock. I beg 
 you not to betray me!" 
 
 "Yes, but if you will play before me, you must get the 
 plaything which you say is in his pocket." 
 
 "Sire, then I had rather not play," cried the prince. 
 
 "On the contrary," said the king, "your punishment shall 
 be, to take the plaything as cleverly out of the pocket as you 
 put it in. If you do it well, then I will say nothing about it ; 
 but, if your tutor discovers you, then you must submit to the 
 storm. It lies in your own hands. Whilst I am conversing 
 with the tutor, try your luck. Now call him in." 
 
 The prince obeyed thoughtfully, and the tutor entered. 
 He stood near the door, and made the three prescribed bows; 
 then he waited with a submissive air for further commands. 
 
 The king was sitting opposite the door, his hands folded 
 upon his staff and his chin resting upon his hands, looking 
 the tutor full in the face. Herr Behnisch bore it calmly ; not 
 a feature moved in his angular, wooden face. Near the tutor 
 stood the little prince, his graceful, rosy, childlike face ex- 
 pressing eager expectation. 
 
 "Approach!" said the king. 
 
 Herr Behnisch stepped forward a little, and remained 
 standing. The prince glided noiselessly after him, keeping 
 his eyes fixed on the tails of the flesh-colored satin coat with 
 which the tutor had adorned himself for this extraordinary 
 occasion. The prince smiled as he saw the pocket open and 
 the feathers of the shuttlecock peeping out. He stretched 
 out his little hand and crooked his fingers to seize it. 
 
 " Come nearer, Herr Behnisch," said Frederick, who had 
 
FREDERICK WILLIAM. 33 
 
 observed the movement of the little prince, and who was amused 
 at the thought of keeping him in suspense a little longer. 
 
 Herr Behnisch moved forward, and the prince, frightened, 
 remained standing with outstretched hand. He menaced the 
 king with a glance of his bright blue eyes. Frederick caught 
 the look, smiled, and turned to the tutor. 
 
 " I believe it is three years since you commenced teaching 
 the little prince?" said the king. 
 
 "At your service, your majesty, since 1775." 
 
 "A tolerably long time," said the king — "long enough to 
 make a savant of a child of Nature. You have been faithful, 
 and I am satisfied. The copybooks which you sent me ac- 
 cording to my orders are satisfactory. I wished to acquaint 
 you myself of my satisfaction, therefore I sent for you." 
 
 "Your majesty is very condescending," said the tutor, and 
 his sharp, angular face brightened a little. " I am very happy 
 in the gracious satisfaction of your royal highness. I wished 
 also to make known to you personally my wishes in regard to 
 the petition for the little prince's pocket-money; he should 
 learn the use of money. " 
 
 "Very well," said the king, nodding to the prince, who 
 stood behind the tutor, holding up triumphantly the shuttle- 
 cock. 
 
 Yet, the most difficult feat remained to be accomplished. 
 The battledoor was in the very depths of the pocket ; only the 
 point of the handle was visible. 
 
 "Your majesty," cried Herr Behnisch, who had taken the 
 approving exclamation of "very well" to himself — "your 
 majesty, I am very happy that you have the grace to approve 
 of my petition for pocket-money." 
 
 "Yes, I think it well," said the king, "that the prince 
 should learn not to throw money out of the window. I will 
 send you, monthly, for the prince, two Fredericks d'or, and, 
 before you hand it over to him, change it into small pieces, 
 that there may be a great pile of it." * 
 
 * The king's own words.— See "Confidential Letter*," 
 
34 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 Just at that moment the prince tried to seize the battle- 
 door. Herr Behnisch felt the movement, and was on the 
 point of turning around, when Frederick stopped him, by 
 saying, " I believe it is time to commence a regular course of 
 instruction for the prince. At eight years of age the educa- 
 tion of an heir to the throne must progress rapidly, and be 
 regulated by fixed principles. I will write out my instruc- 
 tions, that you may always have them before you." 
 
 " It will be my most earnest endeavor to follow your maj- 
 esty's commands to the letter," answered the tutor, who saw 
 not the little prince, with beaming face, behind him, swing- 
 ing the battledoor high in the air. 
 
 " I am about to enter upon a new war ; no one knows if he 
 will ever return from a campaign. I dare not spare my life, 
 when the honor and fame of my house are at stake. Our life 
 and death, however, are in God's hands. Before we risk our 
 lives, we should put every thing in order, and leave nothing 
 undone which it is our duty to do. I will write my instruc- 
 tions to-day, and send them to you. Promise me, upon your 
 word of honor as a man, that you will act upon them, as long 
 as you are tutor to Prince Frederick William, even if I should 
 not return from the campaign." 
 
 "I promise it to your majesty," answered the tutor. "I 
 will, in all things, according to the best of my ability, follow 
 your majesty's instructions." 
 
 "I believe you; I take you to be an honorable man," said 
 the king. "You will always be mindful of the great respon- 
 sibility which rests upon you, as you have a prince to educate 
 who will one day govern a kingdom, and upon whom the weal 
 and woe of many millions are dependent. And when those 
 millions of men one day bless the king whom you have edu- 
 cated, a part of the blessing will fall upon you ; but when 
 they curse him, so falls the curse likewise upon your guilty 
 head, and you will feel the weight of it, though you may be 
 in your grave! Be mindful of this, and act accordingly. 
 
FREDERICK WILLIAM. 35 
 
 Now you may depart. I will write the instructions im- 
 mediately, so that you may receive them to-day." 
 
 Herr Behnisch bowed, backing out toward the door. 
 
 " One thing more," cried the king, motioning with his staff 
 to the tutor. " In order that you may ever remember our 
 interview, I will present you with a souvenir." 
 
 He opened the drawer of his private writing-table, and .took 
 out a gold snuff-box, with his initials set in brilliants upon 
 the cover; handing it to Herr Behnisch, he motioned him to 
 retire, and thus spare him the expression of his gratitude. 
 
 "Your majesty," stammered Herr Behnisch, with tears in 
 his eyes, " I — " 
 
 " You are an honest man, and so long as you remain so, 
 you can count upon me. Adieu! — Now," said the king, as 
 the door closed, "have you recovered the plaything?" 
 
 "Here it is, your majesty," shouted the prince, as he held 
 up triumphantly the battledoor and shuttlecock high in the 
 air. 
 
 "You deserve your reward, and you shall have it. You 
 can stay with me and play with it here. Take care and not 
 make too much noise, as I wish to write." 
 
 The king now seated himself, to draw up the instructions 
 for Herr Behnisch. While he was thus occupied, the little 
 prince tossed his shuttlecock, springing lightly after it on 
 tiptoe to catch it ; sometimes he missed it, and then he cast 
 an imploring look at the king, as it fell upon the furniture ; 
 but he observed it not. He was absorbed in writing the in- 
 structions for the education of the future king, Frederick 
 William III. The physical education of the prince was his 
 first care. He dwelt upon the necessity of the frequent prac- 
 tice of dancing, fencing, and riding, to give suppleness, grace, 
 and a good carriage — through severe training, to make him 
 capable of enduring all hardships. The different branches of 
 study next occupied the king. "It is not sufficient," he 
 wrote, " that the prince should learn the dates of history, to 
 
36 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 repeat them like a parrot; but he must understand how to 
 compare the events of ancient times with the modern, and 
 discover the causes which produced revolutions, and show 
 that, generally, in the world, virtue is rewarded and vice 
 punished. Later, he can learn a short course of logic, free 
 from all pedantry ; then study the orations of Cicero and De- 
 mosthenes, and read the tragedies of Racine. When older, 
 he should have some knowledge of the opinions of philoso- 
 phers, and the different religious sects, without inspiring 
 him with dislike for any one sect. Make it clear to him that 
 we all worship God — only in different ways. It is not neces- 
 sary that he should have too much respect for the priests who 
 instruct him." 
 
 The shuttlecock fell, at this instant, upon the paper upon 
 which the king was writing. Frederick was too much occu- 
 pied to look up, but he threw it upon the floor, continuing to 
 write : 
 
 " The great object will be to awaken a love of learning in 
 the prince, to prevent any approach to pedantry, and not to 
 make the course of instruction too severe at the commence- 
 ment. We now come to the chief division of education, that 
 which concerns the morals. Neither you nor all the power 
 in the world would be sufficient to alter the character of a 
 child. Education can do nothing further than moderate the 
 violence of the passions. Treat my nephew as the son of a 
 citizen, who has to make his own fortune. Say to him that, 
 when he commits follies, and learns nothing, the whole world 
 will despise him. Let him assume no mannerisms, but bring 
 him up simply. The — " 
 
 It was the second time the shuttlecock fell upon the paper. 
 The king looked up censuringly at the prince, who stood 
 speechless with fright and anxiety. The king again threw it 
 upon the floor, and wrote on : 
 
 " The prince must be polite toward every one ; and if he is 
 rude, he must immediately make an apology. Teach him that 
 all men are equal — that high birth is a myth when not ac- 
 
FREDERICK WILLIAM. 3? 
 
 companied with merit. Let the prince speak with every one, 
 that he may gain confidence. It is of no consequence if he 
 talks nonsense ; every one knows that he is a child. Take 
 care in his education, above all things, that he is self-reliant, 
 and not led by others; his follies, as well as his good qualities, 
 should belong to himself. It is of very great importance to 
 inspire him with a love for military life ; and for this reason 
 say to him, and let him hear others say it, that every man 
 who is not a soldier is a miserable fellow, whether noble or 
 not. He must see the soldiers exercise as often as possible; 
 and it would be well to send for five or six cadets, and have 
 them drill before him. Every thing depends upon cultivat- 
 ing a taste for these things. Inspire him with a love of our 
 country, above all things. Let no one speak to him who is 
 not truly patriotic." 
 
 Again the shuttlecock fell upon the paper. The little 
 prince uttered a cry of horror, staring at the plaything. This 
 time the king did not receive the interruption so calmly. He 
 looked at the speechless boy as if very angry ; then took it 
 and put it in his pocket. Casting another angry glance at 
 the prince, he continued: 
 
 " The officers who dine with the prince shall tease and 
 annoy him, that he may become confident." 
 
 "Your majesty," said the prince, timidly and imploringly, 
 " I beg pardon a thousand times for being so awkward. I am 
 very sorry, and I will be more careful in the future." 
 
 The king paid no attention to him, but continued to write: 
 " When you understand him better, try to learn his chief pas- 
 sion — not to uproot it, but to moderate it." * 
 
 "My dear lord and king," began the prince again, "I beg 
 you will have the goodness to give me my shuttlecock." 
 
 The king was silent, and with apparent indifference com- 
 menced reading over what he had written. 
 
 Prince Frederick William waited a long time, but, on re- 
 
 * This entire instruction is an exact translation of the original, which Frederick 
 trew up in 3Vench. and which is included in his " Complete Works." 
 
38 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 ceiving no answer, and understanding that his pleading was 
 in vain, his face grew red with anger, and his eyes flashed. 
 With an irritated, determined manner, he stepped close up 
 to the king, his hands resting upon his hips. "Your maj- 
 esty," cried he, with a menacing tone, "will you give me my 
 ball or not?" 
 
 The king now looked up at the prince, who regarded him 
 in an insolent, questioning manner. A smile, mild as the 
 evening sunset, spread over the king's face; he laid his hand 
 lovingly upon the curly head of the prince, saying : " They 
 will never take away Silesia from you. Here is your shuttle- 
 cock." He drew it from his pocket, and gave it to the little 
 prince, who seized his hand and pressed it to his lips. 
 
 CHAPTER IV: 
 
 THE DKIVE TO BERLIN - . 
 
 Wilhelmike Enke passed the remainder of the day, after 
 her meeting with the king, in anguish and tears. She re- 
 called all that he had said to her, every word of which pierced 
 her to the heart. Her little daughter of seven years tried in 
 vain to win a smile from her mamma with her gentle caresses. 
 In vain she begged her to sing to her and smile as she was 
 wont to do. The mother, usually so kind and affectionate, 
 would to-day free herself from her child, and sent her away 
 with quivering lip, and tears in her eyes, to listen to her 
 nurse's stories. 
 
 Once alone, Wilhelmine paced her room with rapid strides 
 and folded arms, giving vent to her repressed anguish. She 
 reviewed her life, with all its changing scenes. It was a 
 sad, searching retrospection, but in it she found consolation and 
 excuse for herself. She thought of her childhood; she saw 
 the gloomy dwelling where she had lived with her parents, 
 brothers, and sisters. She recalled the need and the want of 
 
THE DRIVE TO BERLIN. 39 
 
 those years — the sickly, complaining, but busy mother; the 
 foolish, wicked father, who never ceased his constant exercise 
 of the bugle, except to take repeated draughts of brandy, or 
 scold the children. Then she saw in this joyless dwelling, 
 in which she crouched with her little sisters, a young girl 
 enter, and greet them smilingly. She wore a robe glittering 
 with gold, with transparent wings upon her shoulders. This 
 young girl was Wilhelmine's older sister, Sophie, who had 
 just returned from the Italian opera, where she was employed. 
 She still had on her fairy costume in which she had danced in 
 the opera of " Armida," and had come, with a joyous face, to 
 take leave of her parents, and tell them that a rich Eussian 
 •count loved her, and wanted to marry her ; that in the inter- 
 vening time he had taken a beautiful apartment for her, where 
 she would remove that very evening. She must bid them fare- 
 well, for her future husband was waiting for her in the carriage 
 at the door. 
 
 Sophie laughed at her grumbling father, shook hands with 
 her weeping mother, and bent to kiss the children. Wilhel- 
 mine, in unspeakable anguish, sprang after her, holding her 
 fast, with both hands clinching the crackling wings. She 
 implored her sister to take her with her, while the tears ran 
 in streams down her cheeks. "You know that I love you," 
 she cried, "and my only pleasure is to see you every day. 
 Take me with you, and I will serve and obey you, and be 
 your waiting-maid." Wilhelmine held the wings firmly with 
 a convulsive grasp, and continued to weep and implore, until 
 Sophie at last laughingly yielded. 
 
 " Well, come, if you will be my waiting-maid ; no one combs 
 my hair as well as you, and your simple style of arranging it 
 suits me better than any other. Come, come, it shall be ar- 
 ranged, you shall be my waiting-maid." 
 
 The pictures of memory changed, and Wilhelmine saw her- 
 self in the midst of splendor, as the poor little maid, unnoticed 
 by her brilliant sister, the beloved of the Russian Count Ma- 
 tuschko. Joy and pleasure reigned in the beautifully gilded 
 
40 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 apartment where Sophie lived. She was the queen of the 
 feasts and the balls. Many rich and fine gentlemen came 
 there, and the beautiful Sophie, the dancer, the affianced of 
 Count Matuschko, received their homage. No one observed 
 the sad little waiting-maid, in her dark stuff dress, with her 
 face bound up in black silk, as if she had the toothache. She 
 wore the cast-off morning dresses of her sister, and, at her 
 command, bound her face with the black silk, so that the ad- 
 mirers of her sister should not see, by a fugitive glance, or 
 chance meeting, the budding beauty of the little maid. 
 
 Wilhelmine dared not enter the saloon when visitors were 
 there ; only when Sophie was alone, or her artistic hand was 
 needed to arrange her sister's beautiful hair, was she per- 
 mitted to stay with the future countess. Every rough touch 
 was resented with harsh words, blows, and ill-treatment. 
 The smiling fairy of the drawing-room, was the harsh, grim 
 mistress for her sister, whose every mistake was punished with 
 unrelenting severity. In fact, she was made a very slave ; and 
 now, after long years, the remembrance of it even cast a 
 gloomy shadow over Wilhelmine 's face, and her eyes flashed 
 fire. 
 
 Another picture now rose up before her soul, which caused 
 her face to brighten, as a beautiful beaming image presented 
 itself, the image of her first and only love ! She lived over 
 again the day when it rose up like a sun before her wonder- 
 ing, admiring gaze, and yet it was a stormy day for her. 
 Sophie was very angry with her, because in crimping her 
 hair she had burnt her cheek, which turned the fairy into a 
 fury. She threw the weak child upon the floor, and beat and 
 stamped upon her. 
 
 Suddenly a loud, angry voice commanded her to cease, and 
 a strong, manly arm raised the trembling, weeping girl, and 
 with threatening tone bade Sophie be quiet. Prince Freder- 
 ick William of Prussia took compassion on the poor child. 
 The sister had not remarked him in her paroxysm of rage ; 
 had never heard him enter. He had been a witness to Wil- 
 
THE DRIVE TO BERLIN. 41 
 
 helmine's ill-treatment. He now defended her, blaming her 
 sister for her cruelty to her, and declared his intention to be 
 her future protector. How handsome he looked ; how noble 
 in his anger ; how his eyes flashed as he gazed upon her, who 
 knelt at his feet, and kissed them, looking up to him as her 
 rescuer ! 
 
 " Wilhelmine, come with me ; I do not wish you to remain 
 here," said he; "your sister will never forgive you that I have 
 taken your part. Come, I will take you to your parents, and 
 provide for you. You shall be as beautiful and accomplished 
 a lady as your sister, but, Heaven grant, a more generous and 
 noble-hearted one! Come!" 
 
 These words, spoken with a gentle, winning voice, had 
 never died away in her heart. Twelve years had passed since 
 then, and they still rang in her ear, in the tumult of the 
 world as well as in the quiet of her lonely room. They had 
 comforted her when the shame of her existence oppressed her; 
 rejoiced her when, with the delight of youth and happiness, 
 she had given herself up to pleasure. She had followed him 
 quietly, devotedly, as a little dog follows his master. He had 
 kept his word ; he had had her instructed during three years, 
 and then sent her to Paris, in order to give her the last polish, 
 the tournure of the world, however much it had cost him to 
 separate from her, or might embarrass him, with his scanty 
 means, to afford the increase of expense. A year elapsed and 
 Wilhelmine returned a pleasing lady, familiar with the tone 
 of the great world, and at home in its manners and customs. 
 
 The prince had kept his Word — that which he had promised 
 her as he took her from her sister's house, to make her a fine, 
 accomplished lady. And when he repeated to her now 
 "Come," could she refuse him — him to whom she owed every 
 thing, whom she loved as her benefactor, her teacher, her 
 friend, and lover? She followed him, and concealed herself 
 for him in the modest little dwelling at Potsdam. For him 
 she lived in solitude, anxiously avoiding to show herself 
 publicly, that the king should never know of her existence, 
 
42 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 and in his just anger sever the unlawful tie which bound her 
 to the Prince of Prussia.* Wilhelmine recalled the past 
 seven years of her life, her two children, whom she had borne 
 to the prince, and the joy that filled his heart as he became a 
 father, although his lawful wife had also borne him children. 
 She looked around her small, quiet dwelling, arranged in a 
 modest manner, not as the favorite of the Prince of Prussia, 
 but as an unpretending citizen's wife ; she thought how oft 
 with privations, with want even, she had had to combat; how 
 oft the ornaments which the prince had sent her in the rare 
 days of abundance had been taken to the pawnbrokers to pro- 
 vide the necessary wants of herself and children. Her eyes 
 flashed with pride and joy at the thought which she dared to 
 breathe to herself, that not for gold or riches, power or 
 position, had she sold her love, her honor, and her good name. 
 
 " It was from pure affinity, from gratitude and affection,, 
 that I followed the husband of my heart, although he was a 
 prince," she said. 
 
 Still the shame of her existence weighed upon her. The 
 king had commanded her to hide her head so securely that no 
 one might know her shame, or the levity of the prince. 
 
 " Go! and let me never see you again!" 
 
 Did not this mean that the king would remove her so far 
 that there would not be a possible chance to appear again be- 
 fore him? Was there not hidden in these words a menace, a 
 warning? Would not the king revenge on her the sad ex- 
 periences of his youth? Perhaps he would punish her for 
 what Doris Eitter had suffered ! Boris Ritter ! She, too, had 
 loved a crown prince — she, too, had dared to raise her eyes to 
 the future King of Prussia, for which she was cruelly punished, 
 though chaste and pure, and hurled down to the abyss of shame 
 for the crime of loving an heir to the throne. Beaten, insulted, 
 and whipped through the streets, and then sent to the house of 
 correction at Spandau! Oh, poor, unhappy Boris Ritter! 
 Will the king atone to you — will he revenge the friend of hi* 
 
 * " Memoirs of the Counteae LiGhtenau, 1 ' p. 80. 
 
THE DRIVE TO BERLIN. 43 
 
 ^outh on the mistress of his successor? The old King Freder- 
 ick, weary of life, thinks differently from the young crown 
 prince. He can be as severe as his father, cruel and inexor- 
 able as he. 
 
 "Doris Eitter! Thy fate haunts me. On the morrow 1 
 also may be whipped through the streets, scorned, reviled by 
 the rabble, and then sent to Spandau as a criminal. Did not 
 the king threaten me with the house -of correction, with the 
 spinning-wheel, which he would have ready for me?" 
 
 At the thought of it a terrible anguish, a nameless despair, 
 seized her. She felt that the spinning-wheel hung over her 
 like the sword of Damocles, ready at the least occasion to fall 
 upon her, and bind her to it. She felt that she could not 
 endure such suspense and torture ; she must escape ; she must 
 rescue herself from the king's anger. 
 
 " But whither, whither ! I must fly from here, from his 
 immediate proximity, where a motion of his finger is sufficient 
 to seize me, to cause me to disappear before the prince could 
 have any knowledge of it, before he could know of the danger 
 which threatened me. I must away from Potsdam!" 
 
 The prince had arranged a little apartment in Berlin for 
 the winter months, which she exchanged for Potsdam in the 
 spring. This seemed to offer her more security for the mo- 
 ment, for she could fly at the least sign of danger, could even 
 hide herself from the prince, if it were necessary to save him 
 and herself. Away to Berlin, then! That was the only 
 thought she was able to seize upon. Away with her children, 
 before misfortune could reach them! 
 
 She sprang to the door, tore it open, rushing to the nurse, 
 upon whose knees the baby slept, near whom her little 
 daughter knelt. With trembling hands she took her boy and 
 pressed him to her heart. " Louisa, we must leave here im- 
 mediately; it is urgent necessity!" said she, with quivering 
 lip. "Do not say a word about it to any one, but hasten; 
 order quickly a wagon, bargain for the places, and say we 
 must set off at once. The wagon must not be driven to the 
 
44 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 door, but we will meet it at the Berlin Gate. We will go on 
 foot there, and get in. Quick, Louisa, not a word — it must 
 be!" 
 
 The servant did not dare to oppose her mistress, or contra- 
 dict the orders, but hastened to obey them. 
 
 "It is all the old king's fault," said Louisa to herself, as 
 she hurried through the street. " Yes, the king has ordered 
 mistress to Berlin. He looked so furious, the old bear ! His 
 eyes flashed so terribly, one might well fear him, and I 
 thanked Heaven when mamselle sent me home from the park. 
 It is coming to a bad end at last ; I should have done better 
 not to have taken the place at all. Oh, if we were only away 
 from here; if I only could find a wagon to take us!" 
 
 Thanks to the nurse's fears and endeavors, the wagon was 
 soon found, and scarcely an hour had passed before Wilhel- 
 mine Enke, her two children and nurse, were hidden under a 
 plain linen-covered wagon, and on their way to Berlin. 
 
 The street was unusually animated, as the division of troops 
 which the king had reviewed in Berlin, were marching out of 
 the city to report themselves on the Bavarian frontier. Their 
 first night's quarters were to be in Potsdam, and the last great 
 parade was to take place there on the following morning, be- 
 fore the king commenced his journey. The driver had often 
 to halt at the side of the street to let the troops pass, which, 
 with a full band of music, came marching on. At the head 
 of one of the regiments, mounted upon a fiery steed, was a 
 general in brilliant uniform, his breast covered with orders, 
 which glittered in the sun. He was tall and rather corpulent, 
 but appeared to advantage. His carriage was proud and im- 
 posing, his face was almost too youthful for a general, and 
 his body too corpulent for the expressive and delicate features. 
 As he passed by the poor, unpretending carriage, where Wil- 
 helmine sat with her children, she heard distinctly his beauti- 
 ful, sonorous voice, and merry laugh. "Oh Heaven, it is 
 he! — it is he!" she murmured, drawing herself farther back 
 into the wagon with her children. Just then, out of an 
 
THE DRIVE TO BERLIN. 45 
 
 opening in the linen cover, Louisa peeped, whispering, 
 "Mamselle, it is the Prince of Prussia!' 
 
 " Be quiet — for mercy's sake be quiet, Louisa, that we may 
 not be remarked!" said Wilhelmine, gently. "Take the 
 child that he may not scream, for if the prince should hear 
 him he will turn back. He knows the voice of his little son !" 
 
 "Yes, he knows the voice of his little son!" muttered the 
 nurse, as she laid the child to her breast. " The little son 
 must stop here on the street, in a miserable wagon, while his 
 noble father rides past, so splendid and glittering with gold, 
 not knowing that his little boy is so near him. Oh, a real 
 trouble and a real heart-sorrow is this!" 
 
 "Indeed it is," said Wilhelmine, in her heart, "a real 
 trouble and a real heart-sorrow. How all these men would 
 present arms, and salute my children, if they had been born 
 to a throne instead of obscurity ! How they would bow and 
 bend, if I were called Louisa of Hesse-Darmstadt, and the 
 lawful wife of the prince ! Did they not also bend and bow 
 before the first wife, Elizabeth von Braunschweig,* although 
 every one knew of her shameful conduct — knew of her in- 
 trigues with lackeys and common soldiers? Do they not now 
 bow before her, although she is banished to Stettin for her 
 infamous conduct, and lives there a prisoner? A fine im- 
 prisonment that! The whole town is her prison, and when 
 she appears in public every one stands upon the street to 
 salute the crown princess of Prussia. But when they see me 
 they pass carelessly by, or they look at me with a contempt- 
 uous laugh, and fancy themselves miracles of virtue, and free 
 irom sin. My only crime is that my father was not a prince, 
 
 * The first wife of Prince Frederick William of Prussia was the Princess Elizabeth 
 von Braunschweig, the niece of Frederick the Great. The crown prince was scarcely 
 twenty-one years of age when betrothed to her. After four years they were sepa- 
 rated, on account of the improper conduct of the princess, who was banished to Stet- 
 tin. There she lived until her death in 1840, after seventy-one years of imprisonment. 
 Never during these seventy-one years had the Princess " Lisbeth," as she was called, 
 dared to leave Stettin. There she was obliged to amuse herself. Her concerts and 
 evening entertainments were celebrated. The second wife of the crown prince of 
 Prussia was Louisa of Hesse-Darmstadt, the mother of Frederick William III. She 
 .died in 1805. 
 
46 OLD FEITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 and that I am of low birth. Am I to blame for that — to 
 blame that the man whom I love, and who loves me, cannot 
 marry me and make me his lawful wife?" 
 
 " Ho! gee, ho!" cried the driver to his horses. " Get up!" 
 The troops had passed, the highway was now free, and un- 
 interrupted rolled the heavy, creaking wagon into Berlin. 
 Within all was quiet. The two children and nurse were 
 asleep. The driver was half asleep, his head hung shaking 
 about; only now and then he started to give his horses a 
 crack, which the thin, wheezing animals did not heed in the 
 least. Wilhelmine alone slept not; in her soul there was 
 no quiet, no peace. She grumbled at fate, and at mankind. 
 An unspeakable anxiety seized her for the immediate future, 
 and fear of the king's anger. As the sun was setting they 
 reached Berlin, and were entering the town, when the guard, 
 in royal livery, sprang through the gate, calling, in a loud 
 voice, to the wagon, "Halt — halt! Turn out of the way!" 
 Then was heard the call of the sentinel, and the roll of the 
 drums. An equipage, drawn by six black steeds, drove past. 
 A pale, young wife, splendidly attired, leaned back in the 
 carriage, and the little flag-bearer ', Prince Frederick William, 
 was ly her side; on the seat opposite sat the second son, Prince 
 Louis, and the lord steward. In this beautiful equipage 
 drove the Princess of Prussia; at her side, in a miserable 
 linen-covered wagon, crouching far in the corner, sat Wilhel- 
 mine Enke, the rival of the princess ; near her, her two chil- 
 dren, whose existence condemned her, and stamped her life 
 with dishonor. Like a dream the brilliant apparition rushed 
 past Wilhelmine, and it haunted her through the long streets, 
 to the humble home where she sought a temporary refuge. 
 And when finally alone, in her own room, where no one could 
 spy into her face, nor understand her words, there broke forth 
 from her soul a long-repressed wrong. She stood erect ; a 
 proud, insolent smile played around her mouth. " I am his 
 wife, too; I alone am his beloved wife," said she, with a loud, 
 triumphant voice, " and my children are his only truly-beloved 
 
THE DRIVE TO BERLIff. 47 
 
 children, for they are those of his love. How proudly she 
 drove past me ! How beautiful is her pale face, and how in- 
 teresting her sad smile ! She in sunlight, and I in shade I 
 She knows that I am her rival, but she is not mine. No, the 
 Princess of Prussia cannot rival Wilhelmine Enke. I have 
 no fear of her. But the king I have to fear," cried she 
 suddenly, shrinking with terror. In the meeting with the 
 princess she had forgotten him, her anguish, her anxiety for 
 the future. All were forgotten for the moment — to be re- 
 called with renewed terror. 
 
 M Thank Heaven," she said, " I have escaped. For the mo- 
 ment I am safe ! What will the prince do, when he finds that 
 we have fled from Potsdam? Will he divine where we have 
 gone? Will he come to seek me? If he still loves me — if I 
 am really the happy rival of his wife and every other court 
 lady — yes, then he will come. Then he will know where to 
 find his Wilhelmine. But if it is true, what malicious people 
 have repeated to me, with feigned sympathy, that the prince 
 loves another — that he has withdrawn his love from me, is in- 
 different and cold — then he will not seek me ; then I shall 
 remain here alone! — alone, with my children, this long, fear- 
 ful night! What, then, if I am alone? No, oh, no! I will 
 not believe that I am forsaken. These are wicked thoughts 
 which haunt me — only the agitation of this dreadful day, 
 which imagination has overwrought. Rise up and be strong! 
 Go to thy children," said she, M and read in their eyes that he 
 can never leave thee!" 
 
 Forcing herself to composure, she sought her children; 
 found Louisa humming and singing her little boy to sleep,, 
 and her daughter nodding, on a low stool at her feet. 
 
 " Come, my child, I will put you to sleep," said the mother, 
 lifting her in her arms. " Your mother will make your bed 
 softly. When you sleep and speak with the angels, intercede 
 for us all." 
 
 With tender care she undressed her and bore her gently in 
 her arms to her bed, and, kneeling before it, breathed a prayer 
 
48 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 over her sleeping child ; then bent over the cradle of her son, 
 blessing and kissing him. " Sleep my boy, sleep. I know 
 not that I shall ever see thy beautiful eyes open again — whether 
 I shall ever again press thee to my heart. Who can tell if 
 they may not come this very night to remove me to prison — 
 to punish me for you, my children, my beloved children ! — 
 Be calm, be calm! I shall remain here until morning, at 
 least," added she. 
 
 She turned to the nurse, who, with anxious face and folded 
 hands, stood at the farthest corner of the room. " Go, now, 
 Louisa — go, and take something to eat. You must be hun- 
 gry and tired. Buy at the next store what you need ; but do 
 not stop to talk with any one or repeat my name. Then re- 
 turn quickly, and take care of the children. Do not trouble 
 jour self about me — I need nothing more." 
 
 " But you must eat something, mamselle ; you must have 
 some supper!" 
 
 Wilhelmine shook her head, refusing, and returned quickly 
 to her own room. 
 
 OHAPTEK V. 
 
 THE OATH OF FIDELITY. 
 
 Long after nightfall the nurse heard her mistress rapidly 
 pacing her room, and talking aloud to herself. Soon, how- 
 ever, Sleep spread her soothing wings over Louisa, and she 
 heard no more the rapid steps and loud talking of her mis- 
 tress, nor the rolling of a carriage which stopped before the 
 door, and the quick, vigorous steps of a man mounting the 
 stairs But Wilhelmine heard them. Breathless she stood, 
 listening to the approaching footsteps, for she felt that they 
 had to decide her future — the weal and woe of her children ! 
 Was it he, her beloved, the father of her children? or was it 
 the king's bailiff who had followed her, and came to seize her? 
 
THE OATH OF FIDELITY. 49 
 
 Nearer they came; the bell was hastily, violently rung. 
 Wilhelmine uttered a cry of delight. She recognized the voice, 
 the commanding manner, and rushed through the anteroom 
 to open the door. The prince encircled her in his arms, 
 pressed her to his beating heart, and, lifting her up, bore her 
 into the room. 
 
 "Why did you leave Potsdam, Wilhelmine? Tell me 
 quickly, why did you do it?" asked the prince, tenderly kiss- 
 ing her, as he sat her upon the divan at his side. Overcome 
 with her tears, she could not answer. " What mean these tears? 
 Has any one dared to wound your feelings or injure you?" 
 
 " Yes, Frederick, and he who injures me hazards nothing — 
 for it is the king ! I met him in the park at Potsdam this 
 morning. He has crushed me with his scorn and anger. He 
 has threatened me with a fearful punishment — no less than 
 the house of correction at Spandau ! He has told me that the 
 spinning-wheel is in readiness for me if I excite his further 
 contempt." 
 
 A cry of fury escaped the prince. Springing up, he paced 
 the room with rapid strides. Wilhelmine remained upon the 
 divan, but her tears did not prevent her following the prince 
 with a searching glance — to read his face, pale with rage. "I 
 must bear it," he cried, beating his forehead. "I cannot 
 protect those that I love!" 
 
 A ray of joy lighted up Wilhelmine's face as she listened, 
 but it disappeared with the tears which flowed afresh. " I 
 am a poor, unfortunate child," she sobbed, " whom every one 
 despises, and fears not to injure, who has no one to counsel or 
 protect her, and who is lost if God does not have compassion 
 upon her. " 
 
 The prince rushed to her, seizing both hands. " Wilhel- 
 mine, do not drive me mad with sorrow," he cried, trembling 
 with excitement and anger. " Is it my fault that I cannot 
 protect you against him f Have I not defended you from all 
 the rest of the world? Have I ever allowed any one to treat 
 you with contempt?" 
 
50 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 " I have never given occasion for it, dearest I have 
 studiously avoided all men, to escape their contempt and 
 scorn. Shame is hard to bear, fearfully hard. I felt it to- 
 day, as his beautiful eyes flashed upon me with contempt, as 
 his haughty language crushed me to the earth. This is the 
 yoke, Frederick William, that I and my children must bear 
 to our graves!" 
 
 "No, Wilhelmine, not as long as we live — only while he 
 lives! Wait, only wait; let me rise from want and slavery; 
 let the day come which makes me free — which exalts me : my 
 first act will be to lift the yoke from you and our children, 
 and woe to those — a thousand times woe to those who would 
 hold it fast ! Only be patient, Wilhelmine, submit, and bear 
 with me the hard and distressing present. Tell me, my child, 
 my loved one, why did you leave Potsdam so suddenly?" 
 
 " I was afraid, Frederick. A kind of madness seized me at 
 the thought of the king's bailiffs carrying me off to Spandau ; 
 a nameless anxiety confused my mind, and I only realized that 
 I must escape — that I must conceal myself. I felt in greater 
 security here than at Potsdam for the night." 
 
 " And you fled without leaving me any sign or message to 
 tell me whither you had gone! Oh, Wilhelmine, what if I 
 had not divined your hiding-place, and had awaited at Pots- 
 dam in painful anxiety?" 
 
 " Then I should have fled from here at daybreak, leaving 
 my children, and in some quiet, obscure retreat have concealed 
 myself from every eye — even your own." 
 
 "Would you have hidden yourself from me?" cried the 
 prince, encircling her in his arms, and pressing her to his heart. 
 
 " Yes, Frederick, when your heart did not prompt you 
 where to find me, then it would have been a proof that you were 
 indifferent to me. When I cannot lean upon your love, then 
 there is no longer any protection or abiding-place for me in 
 the world, and the grave will be my refuge." 
 
 " But you see my heart revealed you to me, and I am here," 
 said the prince, smiling. 
 
THE OATH OF FIDELITY. 51 
 
 "Yes, Heaven be praised, you have come to me," she cried, 
 exultingly, throwing her arms about his neck, and kissing 
 him passionately. " You are here ; I no longer dread the old 
 king's anger, and his fearful words fall as spent arrows at my 
 feet. You are here, king of my heart ; now I have only one 
 thing to dread." 
 
 "What is that, Wilhelmine?" 
 
 She bent close to his ear, and whispered : " I fear that you 
 are untrue to me ; that there is some ground for truth in 
 those anonymous letters, which declare that you would discard 
 me and my children also, for you love another — not one other, 
 but many." 
 
 "Jealousy, again jealous!" the prince sighed. 
 
 " Oh, no," said she, tenderly, " I only repeat what is daily 
 written me." 
 
 "Why do you read it?" cried the prince, vehemently. 
 " Why do you quaff the poison which wicked, base men offer 
 you ? Why do you net throw such letters into the fire, as I 
 do when they slander you to me?" 
 
 " Because you know, Frederick," she answered, proudly and 
 earnestly — " you must know that that which they write against 
 me is slander and falsehood. My life lies open before you ; 
 every year, every day, is like an unsullied page, upon which 
 but one name stands inscribed — Frederick William — not 
 Prince Frederick William. What does it benefit me that you 
 are a prince? If you were not a prince, I should not be des- 
 pised, my children would not be nameless, without fortune, 
 and without justice. No, were you not a prince, I should not 
 have felt ashamed and grief-stricken, with downcast eyes, be- 
 fore the lady who drove past in her splendid carriage, while 
 I was humbly seated in a miserable wagon. No, were not my 
 beloved a prince, he could have made me his wife, could have 
 given me his name, and I should to-day be at his side with 
 my children. Then, what benefit is it to me that you are a 
 prince? I love you not that you are one, but notwithstanding 
 it. And if I love you in spite of all this, you must know that 
 
52 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 my affection is ever-enduring and ever-faithful — that I can 
 never forget you, never abandon you." 
 
 " And do you believe, Wilhelmine, that I could ever aban- 
 don or forsake you? Is it not the same with me?" 
 
 She shook her head, sadly answering: "No, Frederick, it 
 is unfortunately not the same. You have loved me, and per- 
 haps you love me still, but with that gentle warmth which 
 does not hinder glowing flames to kindle near it, and with 
 their passionate fire overpower the slight warmth." 
 
 " It may be so for the moment, I grant it," the prince an- 
 swered, thoughtfully; "but the quick, blazing fire soon con- 
 sumes itself, leaving only a heap of ashes ; then one turns to* 
 the gentle warmth with inward comfort, and rejoices in its 
 quiet happiness." 
 
 "You confess loving another?" said Wilhelmine, sorrow- 
 fully. 
 
 "No, I do not grant that," the prince cried; "but you are 
 a sensible, clever woman, and you know my heart is easily 
 excited. It is only the meteoric light of the ignis fatuus, 
 soon extinguished. Let it dance and flicker, but remember 
 that the only warmth which cheers and brightens my heart is. 
 your love and friendship. You are my first and only love r 
 and you will be my last — that I swear to you, and upon it you 
 can rely. Every thing is uncertain and wavering in life. 
 They have ruined me, lacerated my heart, and there is noth- 
 ing more in the world which I honor. Only sycophants and 
 hypocrites surround me, who speculate upon my future great- 
 ness; or spies, who would make their fortune to-day, and 
 therefore spy and hang about me, in order to be paid by the 
 reigning king, and who slander me in order to be favorites of 
 his. No one at court loves me, not even my wife. How 
 should she? She is well aware that I married her only at the 
 command of my royal uncle, and she accepted me almost with 
 detestation, for they had related to her the unhappiness of my 
 first marriage, and the happiness of my first love ! She has 
 learned the story of my first wife, Elizabeth von Braun- 
 
THE OATH OF FIDELITY. 5& 
 
 echweig, and that of my only love, Wilhelmine Enke ! She 
 obeyed, like myself, the stern command of another, and we 
 were married, as all princes and princesses are, and we have 
 had children, as they do. We lead the life of a political mar- 
 riage, bnt the heart is unwed. We bow before necessity and 
 duty, and, believe me, those are the only household gods in 
 the families of princes. Happy the man who, besides these 
 stern divinities, possesses a little secret temple, in which he 
 can erect an altar to true love and friendship, and where he 
 can enjoy a hidden happiness. This I owe to you, Wilhel- 
 mine ; you are the only one in whom I have confidence, for 
 you have proved to me that you love me without self-interest 
 and without ambition. You have said it, and it is true, you, 
 love me, notwithstanding I am a prince. I confess to you, 
 there are many lovely women of the court who are your rivals, 
 and who would try to separate us in order to attract me to- 
 themselves. They are beautiful and seductive, and I am 
 young and passionate ; and if these lovely women have no re- 
 spect for my dignity as a married man, how then should I 
 have it, who married for duty, not for love? But there is- 
 one whom I respect for disinterestedness and fidelity ! Do you 
 not know who alone is disinterested and faithful? — who has 
 never seen in me the prince, the future king — only the be- 
 loved one, the man — one who has never wavered, never 
 counted the cost? — that you are, Wilhelmine Enke, therefore 
 we are inseparable, and you have not to fear that I can ever 
 forsake you, even if I am sometimes entangled in the magic 
 nets of other beautiful women. The chains which bind us 
 together cannot be torn asunder, for a wonderful secret power 
 has consecrated them with the magic of true love — of heart- 
 felt friendship." 
 
 " Still they are chains, dearest," sighed Wilhelmine. " You 
 have named them thus! The chains will at last oppress you, 
 and you will forget the magic power which binds you, and 
 will be free. No holy bond, no oath, no marriage tie — noth- 
 ing but your love binds you to me. I rejoice in it, and so 
 
54 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 long as yon do not forsake me, I am conscious that it is yonr 
 own free choice and not force which retains yon." 
 
 " I will give you an outward sign of our bond of union," 
 cried the prince. " I will do it to-day, as a twofold danger 
 hangs over us — the king menaces you, and war menaces 
 me. 
 
 " Is it then true, do you go with the king to the field?" 
 groaned Wilhelmine. 
 
 "Do you wish me to remain?" cried the prince, his eyes 
 flashing. " Shall I here seek pleasure, with effeminate good- 
 nature, while the king, in spite of his age, exposes himself to 
 all the fatigue of a campaign and the danger of battle? This 
 war of the Bavarian succession is unfortunate, and no one 
 knows whether the German empire will derive any important 
 advantage from our sustaining by force of arms a little duchy. 
 It is a question whether it would not be better to abolish the 
 little principalities, in order to strengthen the greater Ger- 
 man powers. The king will support Bavaria, because he en- 
 vies Austria its possession, and, as he has decided upon war, 
 it becomes his crown prince to yield to his decision without 
 murmuring. Therefore, Wilhelmine, I will to-day witness 
 to you the oath of fidelity. If God calls me to Him, if I fall 
 in battle, this oath will be your legacy. I have nothing else 
 to leave you, thanks to the parsimony of my noble uncle. I 
 am a very poor crown prince, with many debts and little 
 money, and not in a condition to reward your love and fidelity 
 otherwise than with promises and hopes, and letters of credit 
 for the future. Such a bill of exchange I will write for you — 
 a legacy for my dear Wilhelmine. Give me pen and paper." 
 
 Wilhelmine hastened to her writing-table and brought him 
 paper with writing-materials. "There, my Frederick," said 
 she, "there is every thing necessary — only the ink, I fear, 
 may be dried." 
 
 The prince shook his head, smiling. " Such a lover's oath 
 as I will transcribe for you can be written with no common 
 ink. See, here is my ink!" 
 
THE OATH OF FIDELITY. 55 
 
 The prince had suddenly made a slight incision in his arm, 
 and, as the blood gnshed out, he dipped his ^en in it, and 
 wrote; then handed it to Wilhelmine, saying: A Eead it here, 
 in the presence of God and ourselves." 
 
 Wilhelmine pressed it to her lips, and read, with *. solemn 
 voice: " 'By my word of honor as a prince, I will never for- 
 sake you, and only death shall separate you from me. — Prince 
 Frederick William of Prussia. ' " * 
 
 " By my word of honor as a prince, I will never forsake 
 you, and only death shall separate me from you," repeated 
 the prince, as he bent over Wilhelmine, lifting her in his 
 arms and placing her upon his knee. " Take the paper and 
 guard it carefully," said he. "When I die, and you have 
 closed my eyes, as I trust you will, give this paper to my son 
 and successor, for it is my legacy to you, and I hope my son 
 will honor it and recognize in you the wife of my heart, and 
 care for you." 
 
 "Oh! speak not of dying, Frederick," cried Wilhelmine 
 embracing him tenderly ; " may they condemn me, and im 
 prison me as a criminal, when you are no more! What mat 
 ters it to me what befalls me, when I no longer possess you 
 my beloved one, my master? Not on that account will I pre 
 serve the precious paper, but for the love which it has given 
 me, and of which it will one day be a proof to my children. 
 This paper is my justification and my excuse, my certificate 
 and my declaration of honor. I thank you for it, for it is 
 the most beautiful present that I have ever received." 
 
 "But will you make me no return, Wilhelmine? Will you 
 not swear to me, as I have sworn to you?" 
 
 She took the knife from the table without answering, and 
 pointing it to her left arm — 
 
 " Oh, not there!" cried the prince, as he sought to stay her 
 hand. " Do not injure your beautiful arm, it would be a 
 sacrilege." 
 
 Wilhelmine freed herself from him, as he sought to hold 
 
 * " Memoires of the Countess Lichtenau." p. 130. 
 
56 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 her fast, and in the mutual struggle the knife sank deep into 
 her left hand, the blood gushing out.* 
 
 "Oh, what have you done?" cried the prince, terrified; 
 "you are wounded!" 
 
 He seized her hand and drew the knife from the wound, 
 screaming with terror as a clear stream of blood flowed over 
 his own. "A physician! Send quickly for a physician," 
 cried he. "Where are my servants?" 
 
 Wilhelmine closed his lips at this instant with a kiss, and 
 forced herself to smile in spite of the pain which the wound 
 caused her. "Dearest, it is nothing," she cried. "I have 
 only prepared a great inkstand — let me write!" 
 
 She dipped her pen in the blood, which continued to 
 flow, and wrote quickly a few lines, handing them to the 
 prince. 
 
 "Read aloud what you have written. I will hear from 
 your own mouth your oath. You shall write it upon my 
 heart with your lips." 
 
 Wilhelmine read : " By my love, by the heads of my two 
 children, I swear that I will never forsake you — that I will be 
 faithful to you unto death, and will never separate myself 
 from you ; that my friendship and love will endure beyond 
 the grave ; that I will ever be contented and happy so long as 
 I may call myself your Wilhelmine Enke." 
 
 " I accept your oath, dearest," said the prince, pressing her 
 to his heart. " This paper is one of my choicest jewels, and 
 I will never separate myself from it. We have now seale' 1 
 our love and fidelity with our blood, and I hope that you will 
 never doubt me again. Eemember this hour!" 
 
 " I will," she earnestly promised, " and I swear to you never 
 to torment and torture you again with my jealousy. I shall 
 always know, and shall hold fast to it, that you will return to 
 me." 
 
 A violent knocking on the house-door interrupted the still- 
 
 * The scar of this wound remained her whole life, as Wilhelmine relates in her 
 memoirs.— See " Memoires of the Countess Liehtenau." 
 
THE OATH OF FIDELITY. 57 
 
 ness of the night. A voice in loud, commanding tones called 
 to the night-watch. 
 
 "Here I am!" answered the porter. "Who calls me? and 
 what is the matter?" 
 
 " Open the door," commanded the voice again. 
 
 "It is our house," whispered Wilhelmine, who had softly- 
 opened the window. " It is so dark, I can only see a black 
 shadow before the door." 
 
 "Do you belong to the house?" asked the night-watch. 
 " I dare let no one in who does not belong there." 
 
 " Lift up your lantern, and look at my livery. It is at the 
 king's order!" 
 
 Wilhelmine withdrew from the window, and hastened to 
 the prince, who had retired to the back part of the room. 
 "It is Kretzschmar, the king's footman and spy," she whis- 
 pered. " Hide yourself, that he does not discover you. Go 
 there to the children." 
 
 " No, Wilhelmine, I will remain here. I — " 
 
 Wilhelmine pressed her hand upon his mouth, and forced 
 him into the side-room, bolting the door. 
 
 " Now," said she, " I will meet my fate with courage ; what- 
 ever may come, it shall find me firm and composed. My chil- 
 dren are safe, for their father is with them." 
 
 She took the light, and hastened into the anteroom, which 
 was resounding with the loud ringing. 
 
 " Who is there?" she cried. " Who rings so late at night?" 
 
 " In the name of the king, open!" 
 
 Wilhelmine shoved back the bolt, opening the door. 
 " Come in," she said, " and tell me who you are." 
 
 "I think you recognize me," said Kretzschmar, with an 
 impudent smile. " You have often seen me at Potsdam in 
 company with the king. I saw you this morning as the king 
 did you the honor to speak with you, and I believe did not 
 compliment you." 
 
 " Did his majesty send you here to say this to me?" 
 
 "No, not exactly that," answered he, smiling; " but, as 
 
58 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 you asked me, I was obliged to answer. I have come here 
 with all speed as courier from Potsdam. I hope you will at 
 least give me a good trinhgeld. I was commanded to deliver 
 into your own hands this paper, for which I must have a re- 
 ceipt." He drew from his breast-pocket a large sealed 
 document, which he handed to Wilhelmine. " Here is the 
 receipt all ready, with the pencil ; you have only to sign your 
 name, and the business is finished." He stretched himself 
 with an air of the greatest ease upon the cane chair, near the 
 door. 
 
 Wilhelmine colored with anger at the free conduct of the 
 royal footman, and hastened to sign the receipt to rid herself 
 of the messenger, and to read the letter. 
 
 "What will you give me for trinkgeld, Mamselle Enke?" 
 asked the footman, as she gave him the receipt. 
 
 "Your own rudeness and insult," answered Wilhelmine 
 proudly, as she turned, without saluting him, to the sitting- 
 room. 
 
 Kretzschmar laughed aloud. " She will play the great and 
 proud lady," said he. " She will get over that when in prison. 
 The letter is without doubt an order of arrest, for when tho 
 king flashes and thunders as he did this morning, he usually 
 strikes. I hope it will agree with you." He slowly left the 
 anteroom, and descended the stairs to mount his horse, which 
 he had bound to a tree. 
 
 Wilhelmine hastened in the mean time to the prince. 
 "Here is the letter addressed to me," said she, handing him 
 the sealed envelope. " I beg you to open it ; courage fails 
 me, every thing trembles and swims before my eyes. Eead it, 
 aloud — I will receive my sentence from your lips." 
 
 The prince exclaimed, breaking the seal: "It is the hand- 
 writing of the secret cabinet secretary, Menken, and the mes- 
 sage comes immediately from the king's cabinet. Now, 
 Wilhelmine, do not tremble; lean your head upon me, and 
 let us read." 
 
 " 'In the name of his majesty, Wilhelmine Enke is com- 
 
THE OATH OF FIDELITY. 59 
 
 manded, Tinder penalty of severe punishment, not to leave 
 her room or her dwelling, until the king shall permit her, 
 and send some one to take her and all that belongs to her to 
 her place of destination. She shall receive this order with 
 patience and humility, and consider her apartment as a prison, 
 which she shall not leave under severe penalty, nor allow any 
 one to enter it. Whoever may be with her at the time of re- 
 ceiving the order, who do not belong there, shall speedily 
 absent themselves, and if the same ride or drive to Potsdam, 
 they shall immediately take a message to his royal highness 
 the Prince of Prussia, and announce to him that his majesty 
 expects him at Sans-Souci at ten o'clock to-morrow morning. 
 The Minister von Herzberg will be in waiting to confer with 
 the prince. The above is communicated to Wilhelmine Enke 
 for her strict observance, and she will act accordingly. ' " 
 
 A long silence followed the reading of this letter. Both 
 looked down, thoughtfully recalling the contents. 
 
 "A prisoner," murmured Wilhelmine, "a prisoner in my 
 own house. " 
 
 " And for me the peremptory command to leave immediately 
 for Potsdam, in order to be at Sans-Souci early in the morn- 
 ing. What can the king mean?" 
 
 " He will announce to you my imprisonment, my exile," 
 sighed Wilhelmine. 
 
 The crown prince shook his head. "No," said he, "I do 
 not believe it. If the king would send you to prison, he 
 would not make such preparation ; he would not commence 
 with the house-arrest, as if you were an officer, who had been 
 guilty of some slight insubordination, but he would act with 
 decision, as is his wont. He would at once have sent you to 
 Spandau or some other prison, and left it to me to have taken 
 further steps. No — the more I think it over, the more 
 evident it is to me that the king is not really angry; he wL. 
 only torment us a little, as it pleases his teasing spirit. The 
 chief thing now is to obey, and give him no further occasion 
 for anger. You must be very careful not to leave your apart- 
 
-60 OLD FKITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 ment, or to allow any one to enter it. I shall start without 
 delay for Potsdam. There are spies posted as well for you as 
 myself ; our steps are watched, and an exact account of them 
 given. I must away quickly." 
 
 " Must you leave me a prisoner? Oh, how hard and cruel 
 life is!" 
 
 " Yes, it is, indeed, Wilhelmine. But I must also kumbly 
 submit and obey. Is not life hard for me, and yet I am 
 crown prince, the heir to the throne ! I shall be reprimanded 
 and scolded like a footman. I must obey as a slave, and am 
 not permitted to act according to my will. I am only a mere 
 peg in the great machine which he directs, and the — " 
 
 "Hush! for mercy's sake be quiet! What if some one 
 should hear you? You know not if the spies may not be at 
 the door." 
 
 " True," said the prince, bitterly. " I do not know! The 
 nurse even, who suckles our child, may be a paid spy. The 
 owner of this house may be in the king's service, and creep 
 to the door to listen. Therefore it is necessary, above all 
 things, that we act according to the king's commands. Fare- 
 well, Wilhelmine, I must set off at once. Kretzschmar is no 
 doubt at the corner of the street to see whether I, as an 
 obedient servant of his master, leave here. If I do it, he will 
 take the news to Sans-Souci, and perhaps the king will be 
 contented. Farewell, I go at once to the palace, to start 
 from there for Potsdam." 
 
 "Farewell, my beloved one! May God in heaven and the 
 king upon earth be merciful to us ! I will force myself to 
 composure and humility. What I suffer is for you ! This 
 shall be my consolation. If we never meet again, Frederick 
 William, I know you will not forget how much I have loved 
 
 f our 
 
THE PARADE. 61 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE PARADE. 
 
 Since early morning a gay, warlike life had reigned at 
 I'otsdam and the neighborhood of Sans-Souci. From every 
 side splendid regiments approached, with proud and stately 
 bearing, in glittering uniforms, to take in perfect order the 
 places assigned to them. With flying banners, drums beat- 
 ing, and shrill blasts of trumpets, they came marching on to 
 the great parade — the last, for the king was about to leave 
 for the field. Thousands of spectators poured forth, not- 
 withstanding the early hour, from Potsdam ; and from Berlin 
 even they came in crowds, to take a last look of the soldiers — 
 of their king, who was still the hero at sixty-nine — the " Alte 
 Fritz," whom they adored — though they felt the rigor of his 
 government. It was a magnificent spectacle, indeed — this 
 immense square, filled with regiments, their helmets, swords, 
 and gold embroideries glittering in the May sun. Officers, 
 mounted on richly- caparisoned steeds, drew up in the centre, 
 or galloped along the front of the lines, censuring with a 
 thundering invective any deviation or irregularity. In the 
 rear of the troops stood the equipages of the distinguished 
 spectators on the one side, while on the other the people in 
 compact masses swayed to and fro, gayly passing judgment 
 upon the different regiments and their generals. The peo- 
 ple — that means all those who were not rich enough to have 
 a carriage, or sufficiently distinguished to claim a place upon 
 the tribune reserved for noble ladies and gentlemen — here 
 they stood, the educated and uneducated, shoemaker and tail- 
 or, savant and artist — a motley mixture ! Two gentlemen of 
 the high citizen class apparently were among the crowd. They 
 were dressed in the favorite style, which, since the " Sorrows 
 of Werther" had appeared, was the fashion — tight-fitting 
 boots, reaching to the knee, with yellow tops ; white breeches, 
 
62 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 over which fell the long-bodied green vest ; a gray frock with 
 long pointed tails and large metal buttons, well-powdered 
 cue, tied with little ribbons, surmounted with a low, wide- 
 brimmed hat. Only one of the gentlemen wore the gray 
 frock, according to the faultless Werther costume, a young 
 man of scarcely thirty years, of fine figure, and proud bear- 
 ing; a face expressive and sympathetic, reminding one of the 
 glorious portraits of men which antiquity has bequeathed to 
 us. It seemed like the head of a god descended to earth, 
 noble in every feature, full of grace and beauty ; the slightly 
 Roman nose well marked yet delicate ; the broad, thoughtful 
 brow; the cheeks flushed with the hue of youth and power; 
 the well-defined chin and red lips, expressive of goodness, be- 
 nevolence, roguery, and haughtiness; large, expressive eyes, 
 flashing with the fire which the gods had enkindled. His 
 companion was perhaps eight years younger, less well-propor- 
 tioned, still of graceful appearance, in his youthful freshness, 
 with frank, cheerful mien, clever, good-natured, sparkling 
 eyes, and red, pouting lips, which never liked to cease chat- 
 ting. 
 
 "See, Wolff! I beg," said the young man, "see that old 
 waddling duck, Mollendorf. I know the old fellow, he is 
 from Gotha ; he imagines himself of the greatest importance, 
 and thinks Prussia begets fame and honor from his grace. 
 He trumpets forth his own glories at a dinner, and abuses his 
 king. He makes Frederick the Great an insignificant little 
 being, that he may look over him." 
 
 "Unimportant men always do that," answered the other. 
 " They would make great men small, and think by placing 
 themselves on high pedestals they become great. The clown 
 striding through the crowd on his stilts may even look over 
 an emperor. But fortunately there comes a time when the 
 dear clown must come down from his stilts, and then it is 
 clear to others, if not to himself, what little, earth-born snips 
 the men of yesterday are." 
 
 " Only look, Wolff, there is just such a moment coming to 
 
THE PARADE. 63 
 
 that stiltsman Mdllendorf. How the great man stoops, and 
 how small he looks on his gray horse, for a greater springs 
 past! Look at him well, Wolff — we shall dine with him, and 
 he does not like to be stared at in the face." 
 
 "Is that, then, Prince Henry passing?" asked Wolff, with 
 animation ; " that little general, who just galloped into the 
 circle with his suite, is that the king's brother?" 
 
 "Yes, that is just his misfortune that he is the king's 
 brother," answered a deep, sonorous voice behind them. 
 
 Turning, they beheld a young, elegantly-dressed man, in 
 the light-gray frock and gold-bordered, three-cornered hat, 
 and a Spanish cane, with an ivory handle. 
 
 "What did you remark, sir?" asked Herr Wolff; his great, 
 brown eyes flashing over the pale, intellectual face of the 
 other, so that he was quite confused, yet, as if enchanted, 
 could not turn away. "What did you remark, sir?" asked 
 again Herr Wolff. 
 
 "I believe," stammered the other, "that I said it was the 
 misfortune of the prince that he was the brother only, as he 
 was worthy of being mentioned for himself ; but I beg, sir, 
 be a little indulgent, and do not pry into my very soul with 
 your godlike eyes. It will craze me, and I shall run through 
 the streets of Berlin, crying that the Apollo-Belvedere has ar- 
 rived at Potsdam, and invite all the poets and authors to 
 come and worship him." 
 
 "I believe you are right," cried the youngest of the two 
 gentlemen, laughing. "I believe myself it is the Apollo- 
 Belvedere." 
 
 " Be still, my dear sir, hush, and preserve our incognito," 
 interrupted his companion. 
 
 " But I cannot help it, Wolff. Am I to blame that this 
 clever fellow sees through your mask, and discovers the divine 
 spark which hides itself under a gray Werther costume?" 
 
 "I pray, sir, grant my request, and respect our incognito," 
 begged the other, gently but firmly. 
 
 "Well, well, you shall have your way," laughed the other, 
 
64 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 good-naturedly, and turning to the pale young man, who still 
 kept his eyes fixed on Herr Wolff in a sort of ecstacy, he said : 
 "Let the authors and poets stay in Berlin; we will persuade 
 the disguised Apollo to meet them there, and read them a 
 lecture, for among the Berlin poets and critics there are 
 wicked heretics, who, if the Deity Himself wrote tragedies 
 and verses, would find some fault to object to." 
 
 "Pray tell me, sir, do you think Prince Henry a great 
 man?" 
 
 "Did not the king call him so in his 'History of the Seven 
 Years' War?' " said the stranger. "Did he not publicly, in 
 the presence of all his generals, say, 'that Prince Henry was 
 the only general who had not made a mistake during the 
 whole war?' " 
 
 " Do you believe the king will say that of the prince just 
 riding in with his suite, after the present war?" asked the 
 young man, with earnestness. 
 
 "You mean the Prince of Prussia," answered the other, 
 shaking his head. " There are men who call this prince the 
 'hope of Prussia,' and regard him as a new Aurora in the 
 clouded sky." 
 
 "And you, sir, do you regard him so?" cried Herr Wolff. 
 
 " Do you mean that the Prince of Prussia will usher in a 
 brighter day for Germany?" 
 
 "No," answered the other. "I believe that day expires 
 with Frederick the Great, and that a long night of darkness 
 will succeed." 
 
 " Why do you think so?" 
 \ " Because it is the course of nature that darkness succeeds 
 light. Look at the prince, gentlemen — the divine light oi 
   genius is not stamped upon his brow, as formerly, and care 
 ' will be taken that it is soon extinguished altogether." 
 , "Who will take care?" 
 
 1 *' Those who are the enemies of light, civilization, and 
 freedom." 
 
 " Who are they?" asked Herr Wolff. 
 
THE PARADE. 65 
 
 The other smiled, and answered: "Sir, so far as I, in all 
 hnmility, call myself a scholar, I also owe to the god Apollo 
 obedience, and must answer him, though it may endanger 
 me. I answer, then, the enemies of light and civilization are 
 the disguised Jesuits." 
 
 " Oh, it is easy to perceive that you do not belong to them, 
 or you would not thus characterize them, and — " 
 
 A mighty flourish of drums, and shrill blasts of horns and 
 trumpets, drowned the youth's words, and made all further 
 conversation impossible. The king, followed by a brilliant 
 suite, had just arrived at the parade. The regiments greeted 
 their sovereign with loud blasts of trumpets, and the people 
 shouted their farewell. Frederick lifted lightly his hat, and 
 rode along the ranks of the well-ordered troops. He listened 
 to the shouts with calm, composed manner; the Jupiter- 
 flashes from his great eyes seemed to be spent forever. 
 Mounted upon Caesar, his favorite horse, he looked to-day 
 more bent, his back more bowed with the burden of years; 
 and it was plainly visible that the hand which held the staff 
 crosswise over the horse's neck, holding at the same time the 
 bridle, trembled from very weakness. 
 
 " That is Frederick," said Herr Wolff to himself. " That 
 is the hero before whom Europe has trembled; the daring 
 prince who caused the sun to rise upon his country, and 
 awaken the spirits to cheerful life. Oh, how lamentable, how 
 much to be regretted, that a hero, too, can grow feeble and 
 old! Oh, cruel fate, that the noblest spirits embodied in this 
 fragile humanity, and — " 
 
 Suddenly he ceased, and looked at the king amazed and 
 with admiration. The old man had become the hero again. 
 The bowed form was erect, the face beamed with energy and 
 conscious power, the eyes flashed with bold daring, strong and 
 sonorous was the voice. The king had turned to his generals, 
 who were drawn up around him in a large circle, saying: 
 " Gentlemen, I come to take leave of you. We shall meet 
 again upon the battle-field, where laurels bloom for the brave. 
 
66 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 I hope that we may all return, crowned with fresh laurels. 
 Tell my soldiers that I count upon them — that I know they 
 will prove the glory of the Prussian troops anew, and that 
 on the day of battle they will see me at their head. — Fare- 
 well!" 
 
 " Long live the king!" cried the generals and staff-officers, 
 in one voice. The people and the soldiers joined the shout, 
 the ladies waved their handkerchiefs. Herr Wolff and his 
 companions tore off their hats with enthusiasm, and swung 
 them high in the air. 
 
 The great eyes of the king, who passed at this moment, 
 rested upon Herr Wolff. " My heart quaked as if I were the 
 pillar of Memnon, and had been touched by the sun's rays," 
 sighed he, as he followed the king with his fiery glance. 
 
 " The ceremony is now finished," said the young man near 
 him, " and we must leave, in order to be punctual to dinner 
 at Prince Henry's." 
 
 "I wish the king had remained an hour longer," sighed 
 Herr Wolff again. " As I looked at him, it seemed as if I 
 were listening to a song from Homer, and all my faculties 
 were in unison in delight and enthusiasm. Happy those who 
 dare approach him, and remain near him!" 
 
 "Then, according to your opinion, his servants must be 
 very fortunate," said the stranger, " and yet they say that he 
 is not very kind to them." 
 
 "Because the servant is a little man," cried Herr Wolff, 
 " and every one looks little to his belittling eyes." 
 
 " Yes, there are many others no more elevated than servants 
 in the king's surroundings," said the other. The youth re* 
 minded him that they must leave. 
 
 "Only wait a moment, friend," begged Herr Wolff, as he 
 turned to the stranger, saying, " I would like to continue our 
 conversation of to-day. You live in Berlin. I will find you 
 out if you will give me your name." 
 
 " I pray you to visit me ; my name is Moritz. I live in 
 Kloster Strasse, near the gray convent." 
 
THE PARADE. 67 
 
 "Your name is Moritz?" asked Herr Wolff, earnestly. 
 41 Then you are the author of the 'Journey to England?' " 
 
 "Yes, the same, and my highest encomium is, that the 
 work is not unknown to you, or the name of the author." 
 
 " All Germany knows it, and do you think I could possibly 
 remain a stranger to it?" 
 
 " But your name, sir," said the stranger, with anxious curi- 
 osity. " Will you not give me your name?" 
 
 " I will tell you when we are in your own room," said Herr 
 Wolff, smiling. 
 
 " The air is yet enchanted and intoxicated with the breath 
 of the Great Frederick ; it should not be desecrated with an- 
 other name. — Farewell, we will meet in Berlin." 
 
 Not far from these gentlemen stood two others, wrapped in 
 long military cloaks, both of striking and foreign appear- 
 ance; the one, of slight delicate figure, of dark complexion, 
 noble and handsome face, must be an Italian, as his very black 
 hair and eyes betrayed ; the other, tall, broad-shouldered, of 
 Herculean stature, belonged to North Germany, as the blond 
 hair, light-blue eyes, and features indicated. A pleasing 
 smile played around his thick, curled lips, and only when 
 he glanced at his companion did it die away, and change 
 to one of respectful devotion. At this instant the king 
 passed. The Italian pressed the arm of his companion. 
 "The arch-fiend himself," he murmured softly, "the demon 
 of unbelief, to whom nothing is sacred, and nothing intim- 
 idates. The contemptuously smiling spirit of negation, which 
 is called enlightenment, and is but darkness, to whom belief is 
 superstition, and enlightening only deception. Woe to him!" 
 
 "Woe to him!" repeated the other. 
 
 The king was followed by his brilliant and select staff in 
 motley confusion. First, Prince Henry, and then the Prince 
 of Prussia. As the latter passed the two gentlemen, the 
 Italian pressed the arm of his companion still harder. " Look 
 at him attentively, my son," said he, "that is our future and 
 our hope in this country." 
 
68 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 The Hercules turned hastily, with a look of astonishment* 
 to the Italian. " The Prince of Prussia?" asked he, with 
 amazement. 
 
 The Italian nodded. "Do you doubt it?" he added, re- 
 proachfully. "Would you doubt your lord and master, 
 because he reveals to you what you cannot seize with your 
 clouded spirit?" 
 
 "No, no, master, I am only surprised that you hope for 
 good from this lost-in-sin successor to the throne." 
 
 "Yes, you are poor, human children," sighed the Italian, 
 compassionately smiling; "prompt to judge, mistaking light 
 for darkness, and darkness for light. I have already re- 
 marked that to the celebrated and austere Minister Sully, as- 
 he complained to me of the levity and immorality of the 
 French king, Henry IV. I told him that austere morals and 
 moral laws suffered exceptions, and that those through whom 
 the welfare of humanity should be furthered, had to transfer 
 their heavenly bliss of love to the earthly sphere. Sully would 
 contest the question with me, but I defeated him, while I 
 repeated to him what the beautiful and unhappy Queen of 
 Scotland, Mary Stuart, once said to me." 
 
 "Mary Stuart!" cried the other, vehemently. 
 
 "Yes, Mary Stuart," answered the Italian, earnestly. 
 
 " Come, my son, let us go. We have seen what we wished 
 to see, and that is sufficient. Give me thy arm, and let us 
 depart." 
 
 They departed arm in arm, withdrawing from the crowd, 
 and taking the broad walk which crossed to the park. 
 
 " You were about to relate to me the answer which Mary 
 Stuart gave to you, sir," said the Hercules, timidly. 
 
 "True; I will now relate it to you," he answered, with 
 sadness. " It was in Edinburgh I had surprised Mary (as I 
 was admitted without ceremony), in her boudoir, as the 
 handsome Eizzio sat at her feet, and sang love-songs to her. 
 She was resting upon a gold-embroidered divan, and her Sg- 
 ure appeared to ^reat advantage in the heavenly-blue, silver- 
 
THE PARADE. 69 
 
 embroidered gauze robe, which covered her beautiful limbs 
 like a cloud. In her hair sparkled two diamonds, like two 
 stars fallen from heaven, and more glowing still were her 
 eyes, which tenderly rested upon Rizzio. Leaning upon her 
 elbow, she inclined toward Rizzio, who, lute in hand, was 
 looking up to her with a countenance expressive of the deep- 
 est love. It was a glorious picture, this young and charming 
 couple, in their bliss of love; and never, in the course of 
 this century, have I forgotten this exquisite picture — never 
 have its bright tints faded from my memory. How often 
 have I begged my friend, Antonio Vandyck, to make this 
 picture eternal, with his immortal pencil. He promised to 
 do it, but at the moment he was occupied with the portraits 
 of Charles I. and his family — the grandson of Queen Mary. 
 Later, as I was not with him, unfortunately, to save him, 
 death seized him before he had fulfilled his promise. But 
 her image is stamped upon my heart, and I see her now, as I 
 saw her then, the beautiful queen, with the handsome singer 
 at her feet. I had entered unawares, and stood a few mo- 
 ments at the door before they remarked me. As I approached, 
 Rizzio suddenly ceased in the midst of a tender passage, and 
 sprang to his feet. Mary signed to him, blushing, to with- 
 draw. He glided noiselessly out, his lute under his arm, and 
 I remained alone with the queen. I dared to chide her, 
 gently, for her love-affair with the handsome singer, and, 
 above all, to exhort her to fidelity to her husband. Where- 
 upon Mary answered me, with her accustomed smiling man- 
 ner, i There is but one fidelity which one must recognize, and 
 that is to the god of gods — Love ! Where he is not, I will 
 not be. The god Hymen is a tedious, pedantic fellow, who 
 burns to ashes all the fresh young love of the heart, and all 
 the enthusiasm of the soul, with his intolerable tallow torch, 
 for Love stands not at his side. I am faithful to the god 
 Amor, therefore I can never be faithful to the god Hymen, as 
 it would be unfaithful to Love!' That was the response of 
 the beautiful Queen Mary. I could not contest the question,. 
 
70 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 so I only looked at her and smiled. Suddenly, I felt a dag* 
 ger, as it were, thrust at my heart, my spiritual eyes were 
 opened, the lovely woman on the divan was fearfully changed. 
 Instead of the gauze robe, sparkling with silver, a black cloth 
 dress covered her emaciated limbs; instead of brilliants, 
 sparkling in her hair, a mourning veil covered her whitened 
 locks. The beauty and roundness of her neck had dis- 
 appeared, and I saw around it a broad dark-red stripe. Her 
 head moved, and fell at my feet dissevered. I saw it all, as 
 distinctly as if it really happened, and seized with unspeak- 
 able pity I prostrated myself at her feet (who was unknowing 
 of my vision), and besought her with all the anxiety and 
 tenderness of friendship to leave Scotland, to fly from Eng- 
 land, as there the death-tribunal awaited her. But Mary 
 Stuart only laughed at my warning, and called me a melan- 
 choly fool, whom jealousy made prophetic. The more I 
 begged and implored, the more wanton and gay the poor 
 woman became. Then, as I saw all persuasion was vain, that 
 no one could save her from her dreadful fate, I took a solemn 
 oath that I would be at her side at the hour of her peril, and 
 accompany her to the scaffold. Mary laughed aloud, and, 
 with that mocking gayety so peculiarly her own, she accepted 
 the oath, and reached me her white hand, sparkling with 
 diamonds, to seal the vow with a kiss. I faithfully kept it. 
 I had but just arrived in Rome when I received the account 
 of her imprisonment. I presented myself immediately to the 
 pope, the great Sixtus V. , who then occupied the chair of St. 
 Peter. Fortunately, he was my friend, and I had formerly 
 been useful to him, in assisting him to carry out his great and 
 liberal ideas for the welfare of humanity. As a return, I 
 prayed the Holy Father to give me a consecrated hostie for 
 the unhappy Queen Mary Stuart, and the permission to carry 
 it to her in her prison. The Holy Father was incredulous of 
 my sad presentiments, as Mary Stuart herself had been, but 
 he granted me the request. I quitted Rome, and travelled 
 With relays day and night. Reaching Boulogne, a Dover 
 
THE PARADE. 71 
 
 packet-boat had just raised anchor; I succeeded in boarding 
 her, and arrived in London the next evening. The day 
 following, the execution of the queen took place at Fother- 
 ingay. I was with her in her last hours, and from my hand 
 she received the consecrated wafer of Pope Sixtus V. I had 
 kept my oath. I accompanied her to the scaffold, and her 
 head rolled at my feet, as I had seen it in my vision at Edin- 
 burgh. It was the 18th of April, 1587, and it seems to me 
 as but yesterday. To the intuitive, seeing spirit, time and 
 space disappear; eternity and immortality are to it omni- 
 present." 
 
 Given up to his souvenirs and visions, the Italian appeared 
 not to know where he wandered, and turned unintentionally 
 to the retired, lonely places in the park. His companion 
 heeded not the way either, occupied with the strange account 
 of the Italian. A dreadful feeling of awe and horror took 
 possession of his soul, and, with devoted respect, he hung upon 
 the words which fell from the lips of his companion. 
 
 "It was in the year 1587," said he, as the Italian ceased; 
 "almost two hundred years since, and you were present?" 
 
 The Italian replied : " I was present. I have witnessed so 
 many dreadful scenes, and been present at so many execu- 
 tions, that this sad spectacle was not an unusual one to me, 
 and would not have remained fixed in my memory had I not 
 loved, devotedly and fervently, the beautiful Queen Mary 
 Stuart. For those who live in eternity, all horrors have 
 ceased ; time rushes past in centuries, which seem to them 
 but a day." 
 
 "Teach me so to live, master; I thirst for knowledge," 
 cried his companion, fervently. 
 
 I know it, my son ; I penetrate thy soul, and I know that 
 thou thirstest. Therefore I am here to quench thy thirst, 
 and feed thy hungry heart. " He remained standing upon 
 the grass-plot, which he had reached by lonely paths, and 
 which was encircled by trees and bushes. Not a sound inter- 
 rupted the peaceful morning stillness of the place, except the 
 
72 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 distant music of the departing regiments dying away on th» 
 air. "I will teach thee to live in eternity!" resumed the 
 Italian, solemnly. " My predecessor the apostle, George 
 Schrepfer, has initiated thee in temporal life, and the knowl- 
 edge of the present. By the pistol-shot, which disclosed to 
 him the invisible world, and removed him from our earthly 
 eyes, has he to thee, his most faithful and believing disciple, 
 given the great doctrine of the decay of all things earthly, 
 and prepared thee for the doctrine of the imperishableness of 
 the celestial. The original of humanity sends me, to make 
 known to thee this holy doctrine. When I met thee in Dres- 
 den, at the side of the Countess Dorothea von Medem, thee, 
 whom I had never seen, I recognized by the blue flame which 
 trembled above thy head, and which was nothing else than 
 the soul of thy teacher, Schrepfer, wrestling in anguish, 
 which has remained with thee, and hopes for delivery from 
 thee. I greeted thee, therefore, not as a stranger but as a 
 friend. No one called thy name, and yet it was known to me. 
 I took thee by the hand, greeting thee. Hans Kudolph von 
 Bischofswerder, be welcome. The blue flame which glows 
 upon thy brow, guides me to thee, and the pistol-shot under 
 the oaks centuries old, at Rosenthal, near Leipsic, was the 
 summons which my spirit received among the pyramids of 
 Egypt, and which recalled me to Europe, to my own, and 
 thou art one of them." * 
 
 " And as thou spakest, oh master, I recognized thee, and I 
 called — 'Thou art here, who hast been announced to me. 
 Thou art the master, and my master Schrepfer was the 
 prophet, who preceded thee and prophesied thee. Thou art 
 the great Kophta — thou art Count Alexander Cagliostro!' 
 
 * George Schrepfer, the founder of the Secret Free Mason Lodge (at the same time 
 proprietor of a restaurant and a conjuror), invited his intimate disciples and be- 
 lievers, in the year 1774, to whom Bischofswerder belonged, to meet him at Rosen- 
 thal, near Leipsic. He assembled them around him, beneath some old oaks, to take 
 leave of them, as now he would render himself in the invisible realm, whence, as a 
 spirit, he would distribute to some of his disciples gold, to others wisdom. He then 
 commanded them to conceal their faces and pray. The praying ones suddenly heard 
 a loud report, and, as they looked up R ^hreDfer fell dead. He had shot himself with 
 a pistol. 
 
THE PARADE. 73 
 
 As I uttered the name, the lights were extinguished, deep 
 darkness and profound stillness reigned. The two countesses 
 Dorothea von Medem and her sister, Eliza von der Necke, clung 
 trembling to me, neither of them daring to break the silence 
 even with a sigh. Suddenly the darkness disappeared, and, 
 with trembling flashes of light, there stood written on the 
 wall: ''Memento Domini Cagliostro et omnis mansuetudinis 
 ejus. ' We sank upon our knees, and implored thee to aid us. 
 By degrees the strange, secret characters disappeared, and 
 darkness and silence reigned. The stillness disquieted me at 
 last, and I called for lights. As the servant entered, the 
 two countesses lay fainting upon the floor, and thou hadst 
 disappeared." 
 
 " Only to appear to thee at another time," said Cagliostro, 
 44 to receive thee with solemn ceremonies into the magic cir- 
 cle — to initiate thee in the secret wisdom of spirits, and pre- 
 pare thee for the invisible lodge. Eecall what I said to thee, 
 three days since, in Dresden. Do you still remember it?" 
 
 "I recall it. Thou saidst: 'The secret service calls me to 
 Mittau, with the Countess Medem, to raise hidden treasure, 
 of which the spirit has given me knowledge, and decipher 
 important magical characters on the walls of a cloister. Be- 
 fore I leave, I will lead thee upon the way which thou hast to 
 follow in order to find the light, and let it illuminate the soul 
 which is worthy. Follow me, and I will lead thee to the path 
 of glory, power, and immortality.' These were thy words, 
 my master." 
 
 "I have now led thee hither," Cagliostro said to him, 
 gently; "thy soul doubts and trembles, for thou art blind 
 with seeing eyes, and deaf with hearing ears." 
 
 " My soul doubts not, oh master — it comprehends not. I 
 have followed thee, devotedly and believingly. Thou knowest 
 it, master, for thou readest the souls of thy children, and 
 seest their hidden thoughts. Thou hast said to me in Dres- 
 den, 'Renounce your service to the Duke of Courland.' I did 
 it, and from equerry and lord chamberlain to the duke, be- 
 
74 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 came a simple, private gentleman. I have renounced nr/ 
 titles and dignities for thee, in happy trust in thee. My 
 future lies in thy hands, and, anxious to learn the mysteries 
 of immortality, as a grateful, trustful scholar, I would receive 
 happiness and unhappiness at thy hand." 
 
 "Thou shalt receive not only happiness," said Cagliostro, 
 solemnly, " but thou art one of the elect. The blue flame 
 glows upon thy brow, it will illuminate thy soul, and lead 
 thee to the path of glory, power, and might. To-day thou 
 art a simple, private gentleman, as thou sayst, but to-morrow 
 thou wilt become a distinguished lord, before whom hundreds 
 will bow. Fame awaits thee — which thou hast longed for — 
 as power awaits thee. Whom have I named to thee as our 
 future and our hope in this land?" 
 
 "Prince Frederick "William of Prussia," answered Herr von 
 Bischofswerder, humbly. 
 
 " As I spake this name, thou trembledst, and calledst him 
 'one lost in sin.' Knowest thou, my son, from sin comes 
 penitence, and from penitence elevation and purification. 
 Thou art called and chosen to convert sinners, and lead back 
 the earth-born child to heaven. Engrave these words upon 
 thy memory, fill thy soul with them, as with glowing flames, 
 repeat them in solitude the entire day, then heavenly spirits 
 will arise and whisper the revelations of the future. Then, 
 when thou art consecrated, I will introduce thee into the 
 sacred halls of sublime wisdom. Thou shalt be received as a 
 scholar in the temple hall, and it depends upon thee whether 
 thou advancest to the altar which reaches to the invisible 
 world of miracles." 
 
 "Oh, master," cried Bischofswerder, with a countenance 
 beaming with joy, and sinking upon his knees, " wilt thou 
 favor me, and introduce me to the temple hall? Shall I be 
 received in the sacred world of spirits?" 
 
 "Thou shalt, Hans Kudolph von Bischofswerder. The 
 grand master of our order will bestow upon thee this happi- 
 ness, and to-night shall the star of the future rise over thee* 
 
THE MIRACULOUS ELIXIR. 75 
 
 Hold thyself in readiness. At midnight, present thyself at 
 the first portal of the royal palace in Berlin. A man will 
 meet thee, and thou shalt ask, 'Who is onr hope?' If he an- 
 swers thee, 'The Prince of Prussia,' then he is the messenger 
 which I shall have sent thee — follow him. Bow thy head in 
 humility, shut thine eyes to all earthly things, turn thy 
 thoughts inward, and lift them up to the great departed, 
 which hovers over thy head, and speak with the blue flame 
 which glows upon thy brow!" 
 
 Bischofswerder bowed still lower, covered his face with his 
 hands, as if inwardly praying, and knelt. Caglioetro bent 
 over him, laid his hand upon his head, breathing three times 
 upon his blond hair. 
 
 " I have breathed upon thee with the breath of my spirit," 
 said he. " Thy spirit receives power. Receive it in holy awe, 
 in devotion, and remain immovable." 
 
 Bischofswerder continued motionless, with bowed head ana 
 concealed face. Cagliostro raised himself, his black eyes fixed 
 upon his disciple, and noiselessly disappeared. Herr von 
 Bischofswerder still remained kneeling. After some time he 
 raised his head, 3hyly looking about, and, as he found himself 
 alone, he rose. " He has soared away," he murmured, softly. 
 " I shall see him again, and he will consecrate me— the con* 
 secration of immortals!" 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE MIRACULOUS ELIXIR. 
 
 The king withdrew from the parade slowly, followed by his 
 generals, in the direction of Sans-Souci. The streets of Pots- 
 dam were lined with the people, shouting their farewell to 
 the king, who received them with a smiling face. Arriving 
 at the grand entrance, he turned to his suite, saying, " Gentle- 
 men, we shall meet again in Bohemia; I must now take leave 
 
?6 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 of you, and forego the pleasure of receiving you again to-day. 
 A king about to leave for the field has necessary arrangements 
 to make for the future. I have much to occupy me, as I set 
 out early to-morrow morning. You, also, have duties to at- 
 tend to. Farewell, gentlemen. " 
 
 He raised his worn-out three-cornered hat, saluted his gen- 
 erals with a slight inclination of the head, and turned into 
 the broad avenue which led to the park of Sans-Souci. No 
 one followed him but two mounted footmen, who rode at a 
 respectful distance, attentively regarding the king, of whom 
 only the bowed back and hat were visible. Half way down 
 the avenue his staff was raised above his hat, the sign the 
 footmen awaited to dismount with the greyhounds, which rode 
 before them upon the saddle. At the shrill barking of the 
 animals, Frederick reined in his horse, and turned to look 
 for them. They bounded forward, one upon each side of the 
 king, who regarded them right and left, saying: "Well, 
 Alkmene, well Diana, let us see who will be the lady of 
 honor to-day." 
 
 Both dogs sprang with loud barking to the horse, as if 
 understanding the words of their master. Alkmene, stronger, 
 or more adroit, with one bound leaped to the saddle; while 
 poor Diana landed upon the crouper, and, as if ashamed, 
 with hanging head and tail, withdrew behind the horse. 
 
 "Alkmene has won!" said Kretzschmar to his companion. 
 
 " Yes, Alkmene is the court-lady to-day, and Diana the 
 companion," he nodded. "She will be cross, and I do not 
 blame her." 
 
 "Nor I," said Kretzschmar; "there is a great difference 
 between the court-lady and the companion. The lady re- 
 mains with the king all day ; he plays with her, takes her to 
 walk, gives her bonbons, and the choice morsels of chicken, 
 and only when she has eaten sufficient, can the companion 
 enter to eat the remainder. " * 
 
 *This was the daily order of rank with the favorite dogs, for whose service two 
 dog-lackeys, as they were called, were always in waiting They took them to walk 
 
THE MIRACULOUS ELIXIR. 77 
 
 "One could almost envy the king's greyhounds!" sighed 
 the second footman. "We get dogs' wages, and they the 
 chicken and good treatment. It is a pity!" 
 
 "The worst of it is, the king forbids us to marry!" said 
 Kretzschmar, sadly. " All the others would leave him, but I 
 pay no attention to old Fritz's snarling and scolding, for he 
 pays for it afterward ; first, it rains abusive words, then dol- 
 lars, and if the stupid ass hits me over the head, he gives me 
 at least a ducat for it. Why should not one endure scoldings 
 when he is well paid for it? I remain the fine handsome fel- 
 low that I am, if the old bear does call me an ass ! His maj- 
 esty might well be satisfied if he had my fine figure and good 
 carriage." 
 
 " Yes, indeed, we are very different fellows from old Fritz!" 
 said the second lackey, with a satisfied air. " A princess once 
 thought me a handsome fellow! It is eleven years since, as I 
 entered the guards on account of my delicate figure. I was 
 guard of honor in the anteroom of the former crown princess 
 of Prussia. It was my first experience. I did not know the 
 ways of the lords and ladies. Suddenly, a charming and 
 beautifully-dressed lady came into the anteroom, two other 
 young ladies following her, joking and laughing, quite at their 
 pleasure. All at once the elegantly-attired lady fixed her 
 large black eyes upon me, so earnestly, that I grew quite red, 
 and looked down. 4 See that handsome boy, ' she cried. 'I 
 will bet that it is a girl dressed up!' She ran up to me, and 
 began to stroke my cheek with her soft hand, and laughed. 
 'I am right. He has not the trace of a beard ; it is a girl!' 
 And before I knew it she kissed me, then again, and a third 
 time even. I stood still as if enchanted, and, as I thought 
 another kiss was coming, whack went a stout box on my ear. 
 * There is a punishment for you,' said she, 'that you may 
 know enough to return a kiss when a handsome lady gives you 
 
 when the king did not wish them with him ; in summer, in an open wagon, the dogs 
 apon the back-seat, and the footmen upon the forward seat, and whenever they re- 
 proved them, to bring them to order, they addressed them in the polite manner of 
 
78 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 one, and not stand like a lubber, ' and with that she boxed rne 
 again. The other two ladies laughed, which made me angry, 
 and my ears were very warm. ' If that happens again, ' said 
 I, 'by thunder, she will find I do not wait to be punished!' 
 I laid down the arms, and at once sprang after the lady, 
 when — the folding-doors were thrown open, and two gentle- 
 men, in splendid gold-embroidered dresses, entered. As they 
 saw the little lady, they stood astonished, and made the three 
 prescribed bows. I smelt the rat, and put on my sword 
 quickly, and stood stiff as a puppet. The gentlemen said, 
 that they must beg an interview with her royal highness, to 
 deliver the king's commands. The princess went into an ad- 
 joining room. One of the court-ladies stopped before me a 
 moment, and said : ' If you ever dare to tell of this, you shall 
 be put in the fortress. Eemember it, and keep silent.' I 
 did so, and kept it a secret until to-day." 
 
 " Did the princess ever punish you again?" asked Kretzch- 
 mar, with a bold, spying look. 
 
 " No, never," answered the lackey Schultz. " The princess 
 was ordered to Stettin the next day, where she still lives as a 
 prisoner for her gay pranks. I remembered her punishment, 
 and when a lady has kissed me, I have bravely returned it." 
 
 The footmen had followed the king up the slowly ascending 
 horse-path to the terrace, and now they sprang quickly for- 
 ward. Kretzschmar swung himself from his saddle, threw 
 Schultz the reins, and, as the king drew up at the side-door 
 of the palace of Sans-Souci, he stood ready to assist him to 
 dismount. The king had given strict orders that no one 
 should notice his going or coming, and to-day, as usual, he 
 entered without pomp or ceremony into his private room, fol- 
 lowed by Kretzschmar alone. He sank back into his arm- 
 chair, the blue damask covering of which was torn and bitten 
 by the dogs, so that the horse-hair stood out from the holes. 
 
 " Now relate to me, Kretzschmar, how your expedition suc- 
 ceeded. Did you go to Berlin to see Mademoiselle Enke last 
 night?" 
 
THE MIRACULOUS ELIXIR. 79 
 
 " Yes, your majesty, I was there, and have brought you the 
 writing." 
 
 "Was she alone?" asked the king, bending over to caress 
 Alkmene, who lay at his feet. 
 
 "Well," answered Kretzschmar, grinning, "I do not know 
 whether she was alone or not. I only know that, as I waited 
 a little on the corner of the street, I saw a gentleman go 
 out, wrapped in a cloak, a tall, broad-shouldered gentleman, 
 whom I—" 
 
 "Whom you naturally did not recognize," said the king, 
 interrupting him ; " it was a dark night, and no moon, so that 
 you could not see." 
 
 " At your service, your majesty, I could see no one ; I would 
 only add that the unknown may have been at Mademoiselle 
 Enke's." 
 
 "And he may not have been," cried the king, harshly. 
 " What else did you learn?" 
 
 "Nothing at all worth speaking about. Only one thing I 
 must say, the lackey Schultz is a prattling fool, and speaks 
 very disrespectfully." 
 
 "Did he talk with you?" 
 
 "Yes, your majesty, with me." 
 
 " Then he knows well that it would be welcome. What did 
 he say?" 
 
 " He related to me a love-affair with the crown princess of 
 Prussia eleven years since. He plumes himself upon the 
 crown princess having stroked his beard." 
 
 "Be quiet!" commanded the king, harshly. "If Schultz 
 Was drunk, and talked in a crazy manner, how dare you re- 
 peat it to me? Let this happen again, and I will dismiss you 
 my service. Eemember it, you ass!" 
 
 " Pardon me, your majesty, I thought I must relate all that 
 I hear of importance." 
 
 " That was not important, and not worth the trouble of 
 talking about. If Schultz is such a drunken fellow I did not 
 know it, and he is to be pitied. You can go now ; I give you 
 
80 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 a day to make your farewells to your friends, and to console 
 them with the hope of meeting you again. Put every thing 
 in order that concerns you. If you have debts, pay them. " 
 
 "I have no money to pay them, your majesty," sighed 
 Kretzschmar. 
 
 The king stepped to the iron coffer, of which no one pos- 
 sessed the key but himself, and looking within said : " You 
 cannot have much money to-day, as the drawer which con- 
 tains the money for the gossips and spies is quite empty, and 
 you have had a good share of it. Five guldens remain for 
 
 you." 
 
 " Alas ! your majesty, it is too little ; twenty-five guldens 
 would not pay my debts." 
 
 The king closed the drawer, saying : " Judas only received 
 twenty shillings for betraying his Master. Twenty-five is 
 quite enough for Kretzschmar for betraying his comrade." 
 
 Kretzschmar slunk away. The king fixed his great eyes 
 upon him until the door closed. " Man is a miserable race ; 
 for gold he would sell his own brother — would sell his own 
 soul, if there could be found a purchaser," he murmured. 
 "Why do you growl, Alkmene, why trouble yourself, ma- 
 demoiselle? I was not speaking of your honorable race; only 
 of the pitiful race of men. Be quiet, my little dog, be quiet ; 
 I love you, and you are my dear little dog," he said, pressing 
 her caressingly to his breast. 
 
 The footman Schultz appeared to announce the equerry 
 von Schwerin. 
 
 " Bid him enter," nodded the king. 
 
 Von Schwerin entered, with a smiling face. " Have you 
 accomplished what I confided to you?" 
 
 With a profound bow Von Schwerin drew a roll of papers 
 from his breast-pocket, and handed it to the king, saying, " I 
 am so fortunate as to have accomplished your commands. " 
 
 " Will Count Schmettau give up the villa at once?" 
 
 " Yes, your majesty, the new occupant could take possession 
 to-day, with all the furniture and house arrangements, for 
 
THE MIRACULOUS ELIXIR. 81 
 
 seven thousand five hundred dollars. Here is the bill of sale, 
 only the purchaser's name is wanting. I have obeyed your 
 majesty's commands, and acted as if I were the purchaser." 
 
 " Schmettau is not such a stupid fellow as to believe that, 
 for he knows that you cannot keep your money. You say the 
 contract is ready, only the signature of the purchaser is want- 
 ing and the money?" 
 
 " Pardon me, your majesty, the name of the present pos- 
 sessor has not been inserted. I did not presume to write it 
 ' without the unmistakable command of your majesty." 
 
 " Do you know the name?" asked the king. 
 
 " I do not, but the generosity of my most gracious king 
 and master allows me to divine it, and my heart is filled to 
 bursting with thankfulness and joy. My whole life will not 
 be long enough to prove to you my gratitude. " 
 
 "What for?" asked the king, staring at Von Schwerin, 
 quite surprised ; " you cannot suppose that I have purchased 
 the villa for you?" 
 
 Herr von Schwerin smilingly nodded. " I think so, your 
 majesty." 
 
 Frederick laughed aloud. " Schwerin, you are an un- 
 commonly cunning fellow. You see the grass grow before the 
 seed is sown. This time you deceived yourself — the grass has 
 not grown. What good would it do you? You do not need 
 grass, but thistles, and they do not grow at Charlottenburg. 
 Take the contract to my minister Von Herzberg, whom you 
 { will find in the audience-room, and then walk a little upon 
 the terrace to enjoy the fresh air. I promised you the privi- 
 lege. First go to Von Herzberg, and say to him to send the 
 Prince of Prussia to me immediately upon his arrival. Why 
 do you wear so mournful a face all of a sudden? Can it be 
 possible that my chief equerry has so lowered himself as to go 
 among the mechanics, and build chateaux en Espagne ? You 
 know such houses are not suitable for our northern climate, 
 and fall down. Now, do what I told you, and then go upon 
 the terrace." 
 
82 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 The equerry glided away with sorrowful mien to Von Herz- 
 berg, and communicated the king's commands to him. 
 
 "You have made a good purchase," said the minister, in a 
 friendly manner. " His majesty will be very much pleased 
 with the extraordinary zeal and the great dexterity with 
 which you have arranged the matter. Count Schmettau has 
 just been here, and he could not sufficiently commend your 
 zeal and prudence, and the sympathy and interest which you 
 showed in the smallest matters, as if the purchase were for 
 yourself. The count wishes to reserve two oil paintings in 
 the saloon, which are an heirloom from his father. We can- 
 not but let the count retain them." 
 
 "Arrange it as you will," answered the equerry, fretfully; 
 11 1 have nothing more to do with the affair — it lies in your 
 hands." 
 
 "But where are you going in such haste?" said Herzberg, 
 as the equerry bowed hastily, and strode through the room 
 toward the door. 
 
 " His majesty commanded me to go upon the terrace," he 
 replied, morosely. 
 
 Herr von Herzberg looked after him surprised. " Some- 
 thing must have occurred, otherwise he is very tractable. 
 Ah ! there comes the prince. I will go to meet him, and 
 communicate to him the king's command — I will await your 
 royal highness here until you have spoken with the king, if 
 you will have the grace to seek me." 
 
 " I will return by all means, if you will have, the kindness 
 to wait for me," replied the prince, smiling, and hastened to 
 the interview with his royal uncle. 
 
 Frederick was seated in his arm-chair, upon his lap Alk- 
 mene, when the crown prince entered. "Bon jour, mon 
 neveu! pardon me," said he, with a friendly nod, " that I re- 
 main seated, and do not rise to greet the future King of 
 Prussia." 
 
 " Sire, Heaven grant that many years pass before I succeed 
 to the title which my great and unapproachable predecessor 
 
THE MIRACULOUS ELIXIR. 83 
 
 has borne with so much wisdom and fame, that one can well 
 doubt the being able to emulate his example, and must con- 
 tent himself to live under the shadow of his intelligence and 
 fame!" 
 
 Frederick slowly shook his head. " The people will not be 
 satisfied, nor the coffers filled by fame. No one can live upon 
 the great deeds of his ancestors ; he must be self-sustaining, 
 not seek for the laurels in the past, but upon the naked field 
 of the future, which lies before him. Sow the seeds of future 
 laurels; fame troubles me but little, and I advise you, my 
 nephew, not to rely upon it. One must begin anew each day, 
 and make fresh efforts for vigorous deeds." 
 
 The crown prince bowed, and seated himself upon the 
 tabouret, which the king, with a slight wave of the hand, 
 signified to him. 
 
 " I will endeavor, sire, to follow the elevated sentiments of 
 your majesty, that I may not dishonor my great teacher." 
 
 "You express yourself too modestly, my nephew, and I 
 know that you think otherwise ; that your fiery spirit will 
 never be contented to dishonor yourself or your ancestors. 
 Fate is favorable to you, and offers the opportunity to con- 
 firm, what I judge you to be — a brave soldier, a skilful cap- 
 tain — in a word, a true Hohenzollern ! I would make you 
 a commander of a division of my army, and I shall follow 
 every movement — every operation, with lively interest." 
 
 A ray of joy beamed upon the face of the prince ; Freder- 
 ick saw it with satisfaction, and his heart warmed toward his 
 nephew. " He has at least courage," he said to himself; " he 
 is no sybarite to quail before the rough life of war." 
 
 " Will your majesty so greatly favor me as to accord me an 
 independent position in the campaign?" 
 
 " I offer you what belongs to you as a general and heir to 
 the throne. On me it devolves to direct the plans and oper- 
 ations, and on you to detail them and direct the execution. 
 I shall rejoice to see that you understand the profession of 
 war practically as well as theoretically. Therefore, this war 
 
84 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 is so far welcome, that it will give my crown prince an oppor* 
 tunity to win his first laurels, and adorn the brow which,, 
 until now, has been crowned with myrtle." 
 
 " Your majesty, I — " 
 
 " Be silent — I do not reproach you, my nephew ; I under- 
 stand human nature, and the seductive arts of women. It is 
 time that you seek other ornament — myrtle becomes a youth- 
 ful brow, and the helmet adorns the man crowned with 
 laurels." 
 
 " I have long desired it, and I am deeply grateful to your 
 majesty for the opportunity to win it. This campaign is 
 good fortune to me." 
 
 " War is never a good fortune," sighed the king — " for the 
 people it is great misfortune. I would willingly have avoided 
 it for their sake. But the arrogance and the passion for 
 territorial aggrandizement of the young Emperor of Germany 
 forces me to it. I dare not, and will not suffer Austria to en- 
 rich herself through foreign inheritance, ignoring the legiti- 
 mate title of a German prince. Bavaria must remain an 
 independent, free German principality, under a sovereign 
 prince* It is inevitably necessary for the balance of power. 
 I cannot yield, therefore, as a German prince, that Austria 
 increase her power in an illegitimate manner, but I will cast 
 my good sword in the scales, that the balance is heavier on 
 the side upon which depends the existence of Germany, that 
 she may not be tossed in the air by Austria's weight. These 
 are my views and reasons for the war upon which I now enter 
 with reluctance. When the greatness and equilibrium of 
 Germany are at stake, no German prince should dare hesitate. 
 Austria has already cost Germany much blood, and will cause 
 her to shed still more. Believe it, my nephew, and guard 
 yourself against Austria's ambition for territorial aggrandize- 
 ment. You see, I am like all old people, always teaching 
 youth, while we have much to learn ourselves. We are all 
 pupils, and our deeds are ever imperfect." 
 
 " Your majesty cannot believe that of himself. The sage* 
 
THE MIRACULOUS ELIXIR. 85 
 
 of Sans-Souci is the type, the master, and teacher of all 
 Europe." 
 
 "My son," replied the king, "the great men of antiquity 
 recognized it as the acme of wisdom, that they must be mind- 
 ful that 'in the midst of life we are in death.' At the gay 
 festivities and the luxurious feasts they were interrupted in 
 the merry song and voluptuous dance, with the warning: 
 'Remember, man, that thou must die!' Let us profit by 
 their wisdom ! I have startled you from the banquet of life, 
 and I doubt not that many singers and dancers will be en- 
 raged that I should put an end to the feasts of roses and the 
 merry dance in such an abominable manner. It would be an 
 evil omen in our warlike undertaking, if the rosy lips of the 
 beauties should breathe curses to follow us; therefore, we 
 must try to conciliate them, and leave a good souvenir in 
 their hearts. You smile, my prince, and you think it vain 
 trouble for an old fellow ; that I cannot win the favor of the 
 ladies under any pretension ; so you must undertake for me 
 the reconciliation and the hush-money." 
 
 " I am prepared for any thing which your majesty imposes 
 upon me ; only I would defend myself against the interpre- 
 tation which you give my smile — and — " 
 
 "Which was very near the truth," interrupted the king. 
 " I have called you from the banquet of life, and I have inter- 
 rupted the dancers, crowDed with roses in the midst of their 
 dance, which they would finish before you. I pray you, then, 
 indemnify the enraged beauties, and let us go forth with a 
 quiet conscience, that we in no respect are indebted to any 
 one." 
 
 " Oh, sire, it will be impossible for me to go to the field 
 with a quiet conscience upon this point." 
 
 " Permit me to extend to you the means to do so," replied 
 the king, graciously smiling. " Take this little box ; it con- 
 tains a wonderful elixir, proof against all the infirmities and 
 weaknesses of humanity, of one of the greatest philosophers 
 of human nature. By the right use of it, tears of sorrow are 
 
86 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 changed to tears of joy, and a Megerea into a smiling angel, 
 as by enchantment. Before going to the war, I pray you to 
 prove the miraculous elixir upon one of the angry beauties. 
 For, I repeat, we must put our house in order, and leave no 
 debts behind us. The debts of gratitude must not be forgot- 
 ten. Let us say 'Gesegnete Mahlzeit' when we have been well 
 feasted." 
 
 The king handed the prince a little box, of beautiful 
 workmanship, and smiled as he rather vehemently thanked 
 him, and at the same time tried to open it. 
 
 " I remark with pleasure that you have a tolerably innocent 
 heart, as you betray curiosity about the wonderful elixir. I 
 supposed men, to say nothing of beautiful women, had long 
 since instructed you that it was the only balsam for all the 
 evils of life. My minister Herzberg will give you the key of 
 the little box, and advise you as to the right use of the elixir. 
 Farewell, with the hope of soon seeing you again, my nephew. 
 I start for Silesia to-morrow, as I must travel slower than you 
 young people. You will follow me in a few days. Again 
 farewell!" 
 
 Extending his meagre white hand to the prince, he with- 
 drew it quickly, as the latter was about to press it to his lips, 
 and motioned to the door kindly. 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 THE GOLDEN RAIN. 
 
 Prince Frederick William betook himself, with painful 
 curiosity, to the audience-room, where the Minister von Herz- 
 berg awaited him. 
 
 " Your excellency," said he, " his majesty refers me to you, 
 for the true explanation of the miraculous elixir contained in 
 this little box, and about which I am naturally very curious 9 
 and beg of you the key to open it." i 
 
THE GOLDEN RAIN. 87 
 
 "Will your royal highness," said the minister, smiling, 
 "have the grace to grant me a few moments' conversation, 
 which may serve as an explanation, for his majesty has not in 
 reality given me a key?" 
 
 "I pray you, my dear excellency, to explain it," cried the 
 prince, impatiently. 
 
 " Pardon me if I probe the tenderest feelings of your heart, 
 my prince. The command of the king imposes this duty 
 upon me. He has known for a long time of your connection 
 with a certain person, to whom you are more devoted than to 
 your wife." 
 
 " Say, rather, his majesty has twice forced me to marry two 
 unloved and unknown princesses, when he knew that I already 
 loved this certain person. Twice I have married, because the 
 command of his king is law to the crown prince of Prussia. 
 For my love and my sympathy there is no law but that of my 
 own heart, and this alone have I followed." 
 
 " His majesty does not reproach you. The philosopher of 
 Sans-Souci understands human nature, and he feels indulgent 
 toward your weakness. He is quite satisfied that you have 
 chosen this person, as friend and favorite, to console yourself 
 for an unhappy marriage. Her low birth is a guaranty that 
 she will never mingle in politics, an act which would be 
 visited with his majesty's highest displeasure. While his 
 majesty permits you to continue this intimacy, and recognizes 
 the existence of this woman, he wishes her to be provided for 
 as becomes the mistress of a crown prince, and not as the gri- 
 sette of a gentleman. She should have her own house, and 
 the livery of her lord." 
 
 " As if it were my fault that this has not already been ar- 
 ranged!" cried the prince. "Am I not daily and hourly 
 tormented with poverty, and scarcely know how to turn, be- 
 tween necessary expenses and urgent creditors? You know 
 well yourself, your excellency, how stingy and parsimonious 
 the king is to the crown prince. He scarcely affords me the 
 means to support my family in a decent, to say nothing of a 
 
88 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 princely, manner. How dependent we all are, myself, my 
 wife, and my children upon the king, whose economy in- 
 creases, while our wants and expenses also increase every year !. 
 It is sufficiently sad that I cannot reward those who have 
 proved to me during ten years their fidelity and love, but I 
 must suffer them to live in dependence and want." 
 
 "His majesty understands that, and thinks that as your 
 royal highness is to go to the field, and will be exposed, as a 
 brave commander, to the uncertain fate of battle, that you 
 should assure the future of all those who are dear to you, and 
 arrange a certain competency for them. A good opportunity 
 now offers to you. Count Schmettau will sell his villa at 
 Charlottenburg, and it would be agreeable to his majesty that 
 you should purchase it, and assign it to those dearest to you. 
 In order to give you as little trouble as possible, his majesty 
 has had the matter already arranged, through his equerry, 
 Count Schmettau, and the purchase can be made this very 
 hour. Here is the bill of sale ; only the name of the present 
 possessor is wanting, the signature of the purchaser, and the 
 payment of seven thousand five hundred thalers." 
 
 " The names can be quickly written; but, your excellency," 
 cried the prince, " where will the money come from?" 
 
 " I have just given your royal highness the key to the little 
 box: have the goodness to press hard upon the rosette." 
 
 The prince touched the spring, the cover flew back — it con- 
 tained only a strip of paper! Upon it was written, in the 
 king's own handwriting, " Bill of exchange upon my treas- 
 urer. Pay to the order of the Prince of Prussia twenty thou- 
 sand thalers. " * The prince's face lighted up with joy. " Oh ! 
 the king has indeed given me a miraculous elixir, that com- 
 pensates for all misfortunes, heals all infirmities, and is a 
 balsam for all possible griefs. I will bring it into use im- 
 mediately, and sign the bill of sale." He signed the paper, 
 and filled with haste the deficiency in the contract. " It is 
 done!" he cried, joyfully, "the proprietress, Wilhelmine 
 
 * " Memoirs of the Countess Lichtenau," vol. L 
 
THE GOLDEN RAIN. 89 
 
 Enke; purchaser, Frederick William of Prussia. Nothing 
 remains to be done but to draw upon the king's treasury, and 
 pay Count Schmettau." 
 
 " Your royal highness is spared even that trouble. Here 
 are twenty rolls, and each roll contains one hundred double 
 Fredericks d'or, and, when your highness commands it, I will 
 reserve seven rolls and pay Count Schmettau ; then there re- 
 main thirteen for yourself. Here is the contract, which you 
 will give in person to the possessor." 
 
 " First, I must go to the king," said the prince; " my heart 
 urges me to express my gratitude to him, and my deep sense 
 of his goodness and tenderness. I feel ashamed without being 
 humbled, like a repentant son, who has doubted the generosity 
 and goodness of his father, because he has sometimes severely 
 reprimanded his faults. I must go at once to the king." 
 
 "He will not receive your royal highness," answered Herz- 
 berg, smiling. " You know our sovereign, who so fully de- 
 serves our admiration and love. His favor and goodness beam 
 upon us all, and he desires neither thanks nor acknowledg- 
 ment. He performs his noble, glorious deeds in a harsh 
 manner, that he may relieve the recipients of his bounty from 
 the burden of gratitude; and often when he is the most 
 morose and harsh, is he at heart the most gracious and affec- 
 tionate. You and yours have experienced it to-day. He 
 appeared to be angry, and enveloped himself in the toga of a 
 severe judge of morals; but, under this toga, there beat the 
 kind, noble heart of a friend and father, who punishes with 
 rigorous words, and forgives with generous, benevolent deeds." 
 
 " For this I must thank him — he must listen to me!" cried 
 the prince. 
 
 '* He will be angry if your royal highness forces him to re- 
 ceive thanks when he would avoid them. He has expressly 
 commanded me to entreat you never to allude to the affair, 
 and never to speak of it to others, as it would not be agreeable 
 to his majesty to have the family affairs known to the world. 
 You would best please his majesty by following exactly his 
 
90 OLD FEITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 wishes, and when you meet him never allude to it. As I have 
 said, this is the express wish and command of the king." 
 
 "Which I must naturally follow," sighed the prince, "al- 
 though I acknowledge that it is unpleasant to me to receive 
 so much kindness from him without at least returning my 
 most heart-felt thanks. Say to the king, that I am deeply, 
 sensibly moved with his tender sympathy and generosity. 
 'And now I will hasten to Wilhelmine Enke ; but, it occurs to 
 me that it may not be possible ; the king has made her a 
 prisoner in her own house." 
 
 " Do not trouble yourself about that. If it is your royal 
 highness's pleasure, drive at once to Charlottenburg. You 
 will find the new possessor there, and she will relate to you 
 her interview with the mayor of Berlin." 
 
 " Oh! I shall drive at once to the villa. I am curious to 
 learn what Von Kirch eisen has told her." 
 
 " I imagined that you would be, and ordered your carriage 
 here, as you could not well ride upon horseback with the 
 heavy rolls of gold ; and if it is your pleasure, I will order the 
 footman to place the box, into which I have put them, in the 
 carriage." 
 
 " No, no; I beg you to let me carry them," cried the prince, 
 seizing the box with both hands. " It is truly heavy, but an 
 agreeable burden, and if it lames my arm I shall bethink my- 
 self of the miraculous elixir, which will give me courage and 
 strength. Farewell, your excellency; I shall hurry on to 
 Charlottenburg !" 
 
 The prince hastened to his carriage, and ordered the coach- 
 man to drive at full speed to the villa. Thanks to this order, 
 he reached it in about an hour. No one was there to receive 
 him upon his arrival. The hall was empty, and the rooms 
 were closed. The prince passed on to the opposite end, where 
 there was a door open, and stood upon a balcony, with steps 
 descending into the garden, which, with its flower-beds, grass- 
 plots, shrubbery, and the tall trees, formed a lovely back- 
 ground. The birds were singing, the trees rustled, and var- 
 

 THE GOLDEN RAIN. 91 
 
 legated butterflies fluttered over the odorous flowers. Upon 
 the turf, forming a beautiful group, was Wilhelmine playing 
 with her daughter, and the nurse with the little boy upon her 
 lap, who laughingly stretched out his arms toward his mother. 
 
 "Wilhelmine — Wilhelmine!" cried the prince. 
 
 With a cry of joy she answered, and flew toward the house. 
 "You have come at last, my beloved lord," she cried, almost 
 breathless, mounting the steps. " I beg you to tell me what 
 all this means? I am dying of curiosity!" 
 
 " I also," said the prince, smiling. " Have the goodness to 
 lead me to one of the rooms, that I may set down this box." 
 
 " What does that hobgoblin contain, that it prevents your 
 embracing me?" 
 
 " Do not ask, but hasten to assist me to relieve myself of 
 the burden." They entered the house, and Wilhelmine 
 opened the wide folding-doors, which led into a very tastefully- 
 furnished room. Frederick William set the box upon the 
 marble table, and sank upon a divan with Wilhelmine in his 
 arms. " First of all, tell me what Von Kircheisen said to 
 you?" 
 
 " He commanded me, in the name of the king, to give up 
 my dwelling at Berlin and at Potsdam, and to avoid showing 
 myself in public at both places, that those who had the right 
 to the love and fidelity of the Prince of Prussia should not be 
 annoyed at the sight of me ; that I should live retired, and 
 leave the appointed residence as little as possible, for then the 
 king would be inclined to ignore my existence, and take no 
 further notice of me. But, if I attempted to play a rdle, hh 
 majesty would take good care that it should be forever played 
 out." 
 
 " Those were harsh, cruel words," sighed Frederick William. 
 
 "Harsh, cruel words," repeated Wilhelmine, sorrowfully. 
 " They pierced my soul, and I shrieked at last from agony. 
 Herr von Kircheisen was quite frightened, and begged me to 
 excuse him, that he must thus speak to me, but the king had 
 commanded him to repeat his very words. The carriage was 
 
92 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 at the door, he said, ready to convey me to my future dwell- 
 ing, for I must immediately leave Berlin, and the king be in- 
 formed of my setting out. The coachman received the order, 
 and here I am, without knowing what I am to do, or whether 
 z. shall remain here." 
 
 " Yes, Wilhelmine, you are to remain here; at last we have 
 \ home, and a resting-place for our love and our children. 
 This house is yours — you are mistress here, and you must wel- 
 come me as your guest." 
 
 " This house is mine!" she cried, joyfully. " Did you give 
 it to me? How generous, and how extravagant you are! 
 Protect me with the gift of your love, as if you were Jupiter 
 and I Danae!" 
 
 " A beautiful picture, and, that it may be a reality, I will 
 play the role of Jupiter and open the box." 
 
 He took a roll of gold, and let it fall upon Wilhelmine 's 
 head, her beautiful shoulders, and her arms, like a shower of 
 gold. She shrieked and laughed, and sought to gather up 
 the pieces which rolled ringing around her upon the floor. 
 The prince seized another roll, and another still, till she was 
 flooded with the glistening pieces. Then another and an- 
 other, until Wilhelmine, laughing, screamed for grace, and 
 sprang up, the gold rolling around her like teasing goblins. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 GERMAN LITERATURE AND THE KING. 
 
 The Minister Herzberg had, in the mean time, an interview 
 with the king, informing him of the concluded purchase of 
 the Schmettau villa, and of the emotion and gratitude of the 
 crown prince at his royal munificence. 
 
 "That affair is arranged, then," said Frederick. "If Fate 
 wills that the prince should not return from this campaign, 
 then this certain person and the two poor worms are provided 
 
GERMAN LITERATURE AND THE KING. 93 
 
 for, who are destined to wander through the world nameless 
 and fatherless." 
 
 " Let us hope that fate will not deal so harshly with the 
 prince, or bring such sorrow upon your majesty." 
 
 " My dear sir, Fate is a hard-hearted creature, the tears of 
 mankind are of no more importance to her than the raindrops 
 falling from the roof. She strides with gigantic power over 
 men, crushing them all in the dust — the great as well as the 
 little — the king as well as the beggar. For my part I yield 
 to Fate without a murmur. Politicians and warriors are mere 
 puppets in the hands of Providence. We act without know- 
 ing why, for we are unknowingly the tools of an invisible 
 hand. Often the result of our actions is the reverse of our 
 hopes ! Let all things take their course, as it best pleases 
 God, and let us not think to master Fate.* That is my 
 creed, Herzberg, and if I do not return from this infamous 
 campaign, you will know that I have yielded to Fate without 
 murmuring. You understand my wishes in all things ; the 
 current affairs of government should go on regularly. If any 
 thing extraordinary occurs, let me be informed at once. Is 
 there any news, Herzberg?" 
 
 "Nothing worth recounting, sire, except that the young 
 Duke of Weimar is in town." 
 
 " I know it ; he has announced himself. I cannot speak 
 with him. I have asked my brother Henry to arrange the 
 conditions under which he will allow us to enlist men for my 
 army in his duchy. I hope he will be reasonable, and not 
 prevent it. That is no news that the Duke of Weimar has 
 arrived 1" 
 
 " Not only the duke has arrived, but he has brought his 
 dear friend with him whom the people in Saxe- Weimar say 
 makes the good and bad weather." 
 
 " Who is the weather-maker?" 
 
 "Your majesty, this weather-maker is the author of 'The 
 Sorrows of Young Werther, ' Johann Wolfgang Goethe, who 
 
 * The king's words.— " Posthumous Works," vol. x. , p. 256. 
 
94 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 for four years has aroused the hearts and excited the im- 
 aginations of all Germany. If I am not deceived, a great 
 future opens for this poet, and he will be a star of the first 
 magnitude in the sky of German literature. I believe it 
 would be well worth the trouble for your majesty to see him." 
 
 " Do not trouble me with your German literature, and your 
 stars of the first magnitude ! We must acknowledge our pov- 
 erty with humility ; belles-lettres have never achieved success 
 upon our soil. Moreover, this star of the first magnitude — 
 this Herr Goethe — I remember him well; I wish to know 
 nothing of him. He has quite turned the heads of all the 
 love-sick fools with his 'Sorrows of Young Werther.' You 
 cannot count that a merit. The youth of Germany were 
 sufficiently enamoured, without the love-whining romances of 
 Herr Goethe to pour oil on the fire." 
 
 " Pardon me, sire, that I should presume to differ from you ; 
 but this book which your majesty condemns has not only pro- 
 duced & furor in Germany, but throughout Europe — through- 
 out the world even. That which public opinion sustains in 
 such a marked manner cannot be wholly unworthy. 'Vox 
 populi, vox dei,' is a true maxim in all ages." 
 
 " It is not true!" cried the king. " The old Eoman maxim 
 is not applicable to our effeminate, degraded people. Now- 
 adays, whoever flatters the people and glorifies their weak- 
 nesses, is a good fellow, and he is extolled to the skies. 
 Public opinion calls him a genius and a Messiah. Away with 
 your nonsense! The 'Werther' of Herr Goethe has wrought 
 no good ; it has made the healthy sick, and has not restored 
 invalids to health. Since its appearance a mad love-fever has 
 seized all the young people, and silly sentimentalities and 
 flirtations have become the fashion. These modern Werthers 
 behave as if love were a tarantula, with the bite of which they 
 must become mad, to be considered model young men. They 
 groan and sigh, take moonlight walks, but they have no cour- 
 age in their souls, and will never make good soldiers. This 
 is the fault of Herr Werther, and his abominable lamentations. 
 
GERMAN LITERATURE AND THE KING. 95 
 
 It is a miserable work, and not worth the trouble of talking 
 about, for no earnest man will read it!" 
 
 " Pardon me, sire ; your majesty has graciously permitted 
 me to enter the lists as knight and champion of German liter- 
 ature, and sometimes to defend the German Muse, who stands 
 unnoticed and unknown under the shadow of your throne ; 
 while the French lady, with her brilliant attire and painted 
 cheeks, is always welcomed. I beg your majesty to believe 
 that, although this romance may have done some harm, it 
 has, on the other hand, done infinite service. A great and 
 immortal merit cannot be denied to it." 
 
 "What merit?" demanded the king, slowly taking a pinch 
 of snuff; " I am very curious to know what merit that crazy, 
 love-sick book has." 
 
 " Sire, it has the great merit to have enriched the German 
 literature with a work whose masterly language alone raises it 
 above every thing heretofore produced by a German author. 
 It has emancipated our country's literature from its clumsy, 
 awkward childhood, and presented it as an ardent, inspired 
 youth, ready for combat, upon the lips of whom the gods have 
 placed the right word to express every feeling and every 
 thought — a youth who is capable of probing the depths of the 
 human heart." 
 
 " I wish all this might have remained in the depths," cried 
 Frederick, annoyed. " You have defended the German Muse 
 before; but you remember that I am incorrigible. You can- 
 not persuade me that bungling is master-work. It is not the 
 poverty of the mind, but the fault of the language, which is 
 Mot capable of expressing with brevity and precision. For 
 example, how could any one translate Tacitus into German 
 without adding a mass of words and phrases? In French it 
 is not necessary ; one can express himself with brevity, and to 
 the point." 
 
 " Sire, I shall permit myself to prove to you that the brevity 
 of Tacitus can be imitated in the German language. I will 
 translate a part of Tacitus, to give your majesty a proof." 
 
96 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 " I will take yon at yonr word ! And I will answer you in 
 a treatise upon German literature, its short-comings, and the 
 means for its improvement. * Until then, a truce. I insist 
 upon it — good German authors are entirely wanting to us 
 Germans. They may appear a long time after I have joined 
 Voltaire and Algarotti in the Elysian Fields." f 
 
 "They are already here," cried Herzberg, zealously. "We 
 have, for example, Lessing, who has written two dramas, of 
 which every nation might be proud — 'Minna von Barnhelm, 
 and Emilia Calotti. ' " 
 
 " I know nothing of them," said the king, with indifference. 
 "I have never heard of your Lessing." 
 
 "Your majesty, this wonderful comedy, 'Minna von Barn- 
 helm,' was written for your majesty's glorification." 
 
 " The more the reason why I should not read it ! A Ger- 
 man comedy ! That must be fine stuff for the German thea- 
 tre, the most miserable of all. In Germany, Melpomene has 
 untutored admirers, some walking on stilts, others crawling 
 in the mire, from the altars of the goddess. The Germans 
 will ever be repulsed, as they are rebels to her laws, and 
 understand not the art to move and interest the heart." 
 
 " But, sire, you have never deigned to become acquainted 
 with 'Minna von Barnhelm' nor 'Emilia Calotti.' " 
 
 " Well, well, Herzberg, do not be so furious; you are a lover 
 of German literature, and some allowance must be made for 
 those who are in love. You will not persuade me to read 
 your things which you call German comedies and tragedies. 
 I will take good care ; my teeth are not strong enough to 
 grind such hard bits. Now do not be angry, Herzberg. The 
 first leisure hours that I have in this campaign I shall employ 
 on my treatise." 
 
 "And the first leisure hours that I have," growled the 
 minister, " I shall employ to translate a portion of Tacitus 
 into our beautiful German language, to send to your majesty." 
 
 * This treatise appeared during the Bavarian war of succession, in the winter of 
 1779. 
 
 t The king's words.— Sec "Posthumous Works,*' vol. il., p. 293. 
 

 GERMAN LITERATURE AND THE KING. 97 
 
 "You are incorrigible," said Frederick, smiling. "We 
 shall see, and until then let us keep the peace, Herzberg. When 
 one is about to go to war, it is well to be at peace with one's 
 conscience and with his friends; so let us be good friends." 
 
 " Your majesty, your graciousness and kindness make me 
 truly ashamed," said the minister, feelingly. "I beg pardon 
 a thousand times, if I have allowed myself to be carried away 
 with unbecoming violence in my zeal for our poor neglected 
 German literature." 
 
 " I approve of your zeal, and it pleases me that you are a 
 faithful knight, sans peur et sans reproche. I do not ascribe 
 its poverty to the German nation, who have as much spirit 
 and genius as any nation, the mental development of which 
 has been retarded by outward circumstances, which prevented 
 her rising to an equality with her neighbors. We shall one 
 day have classical writers, and every one will read them to 
 cultivate himself. Our neighbors will learn German, and it 
 will be spoken with pleasure at courts ; and it can well happen 
 that our language, when perfectly formed, will spread through- 
 out Europe. We shall have our German classics also." * 
 
 The king smiled, well pleased, as he observed by stolen 
 glances the noble, intelligent face of Herzberg brighten, and 
 the gloomy clouds dispersed which had overshadowed it. 
 
 "Now, is it not true that you are again contented?" said 
 the king, graciously. 
 
 " I am delighted with the prophecy for the German lan- 
 guage, your majesty; and may I add something?" 
 
 " It will weigh on your heart if you do not tell it," said the 
 king. 
 
 " I prophesy that this Goethe will one day belong to the 
 classic authors, and therefore I would beg once more of your 
 majesty to grant him a gracious look, and invite him to your 
 presence. If you find no pleasure in 'The Sorrows of 
 Werther,' Goethe has created other beautiful works. He is 
 the author of the tragedy of ' Stella. ' " 
 
 * The king's words.— See " Posthumous Works," vol. iii. 
 
98 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 " That sentimental, immoral piece, which we forbid the 
 representation of in Berlin, because it portrays a fellow who 
 made love to two women at once, playing the double role of 
 lover to his wife and his paramour, while he had a grown-up 
 daughter ! It is an immoral piece, which excites the tear- 
 glands, and ends as 'Werther,' by the hero blowing his brains 
 out. It is directed against all morals, and against marriage; 
 therefore it was forbidden." * 
 
 " But, sire, Herr Goethe has not only written ' Stella, ' but 
 'Clavigo' also, which — " 
 
 "Which he has copied exactly from the 'Memoires de Beau- 
 marchais,' " interrupted the king. " That is not a German, 
 but a French production." 
 
 " Allow me to cite a genuine German production, which 
 Johann Wolfgang Goethe has wr^en. I mean the drama 
 *G6tz von Berlichingen. ' " 
 
 " Stop ! — it is sufficient. , I do not wish to hear any thing 
 more," cried the king, indignant, and rising. "It is bad 
 enough that such pieces should appear upon the German 
 stage as this i Gotz von Berlichingen. ' They are nothing less 
 than abominable imitations of the bad English pieces of 
 Shakespeare ! The pit applauds them, and demands with en- 
 thusiasm these very disgusting platitudes. \ Do not be angry 
 again, you must have patience with the old boy ! I shall re- 
 joice heartily if this Herr Goethe becomes a classic writer one 
 day, as you say. I shall not live to witness it. I only see 
 the embryo where you see the full-grown author. We will 
 talk further about it when we meet in the Elysian Fields; 
 then we will see, when you present this Herr Johann Wolf- 
 gang Goethe, as a German classic writer, to Homer, Horace, 
 Virgil, and Corneille, if they do not turn their backs upon 
 him. Now adieu, Herzberg ! So soon as circumstances per- 
 
 * The tragedy of " Stella " was represented in Berlin with great applause, and de- 
 **Oi>nced by the king as immoral, in the year 1776, and the further representation for- 
 Kviden.— See Plumke, " History of the Berlin Theatres." 
 
 t TJ» king's own words.— See " Posthumous Works," vol.iii. 
 
GERMAN LITERATURE AND THE KING. 99 
 
 mit, I shall send for yon to go to Silesia, and then you can 
 give me your German translation of Tacitus." 
 
 The king nodded in a friendly manner to his minister, and 
 slowly walked back and forth, while he took leave and with- 
 drew. After a few moments he rang, and the summons was 
 immediately answered by the footman Schultz. 
 
 The king fixed upon him one of those searching glances 
 of his fiery eyes which confounded and confused the foot- 
 man. He remained standing and embarrassed, with downcast 
 look. 
 
 "What are you standing there for?" asked the king. 
 " Did I not ring for you, and do you not know what you have 
 to do?" Frederick continued to regard him, with flashing 
 eyes, which increased the lackey's confusion. 
 
 He forgot entirely that the summons was for his majesty's 
 lunch, and all that he had to do was to open the door to the 
 adjoining room, where it stood already prepared. 
 
 Frederick waited a moment, but the footman still stood ir- 
 resolute, when his majesty indicated to him to approach. 
 
 He approached, staggering under the puzzling glance of his 
 master. 
 
 "Oh! I see what it is," said Frederick, shrugging his 
 shoulders; "you are drunk again, as you often are, and — " 
 
 "Your majesty," cried Schultz, amazed, "I drunk!" 
 
 " Silence! — will you be bold enough to reason with me? I 
 say that you are drunk, and I want no drunken footmen. 
 They must be well-behaved, sober fellows, who keep their ears 
 open and their mouths shut — who are neither drunkards nor 
 gossips, and do not take for truth what they have experienced 
 in their drunken fits. I do not want such fellows as you are 
 at all ; you are only fit food for cannon, and for that you shall 
 serve. Go to General Alvensleben, and present yourself to 
 enter the guards. You are lucky to go to the field at once; 
 to-morrow you will set off. Say to the general that I sent you, 
 and that you are to enter as a common soldier." 
 
100 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 "But, your majesty, I do not know what I have done," 
 cried Schultz, whiningly. " I really am not drunk. I — " 
 
 " Silence!" thundered the king. "Do as I command you! 
 Go to General Alvensleben, and present yourself to enter the 
 guards at once. Away with you ! I do not need drunken, 
 gossiping footmen in my service. Away with you!" 
 
 The footman slunk slowly away, his head hanging down, 
 with difficulty restraining the tears which stood in large drops 
 in his eyes. 
 
 The king followed him with his glance, which softened and 
 grew gentler from sympathy. " I pity him, the poor fellow ! 
 but I must teach him a lesson. I want no gossips around 
 me. He need only wear the uniform two weeks or so, that 
 will bring him to reason. Then I will pardon him, and 
 receive him into my service again. He is a good-natured fel- 
 low, and would not betray any one as Kretzschmar betrayed 
 him." 
 
 The king stepped to the window to look at the gentleman 
 who was eagerly engaged in conversation with the castellan of 
 Sans-Souci. At this instant the footman entered with a 
 sealed note for the king. " From his royal highness Prince 
 Henry," said he. 
 
 " Who brought it?" 
 
 " The gentleman who speaks with the castellan upon the 
 terrace. I wait your majesty's commands." 
 
 "Wait, then." The note ran thus: "Your majesty, my 
 dearly-beloved brother : The bearer, Johann Wolfgang Goe- 
 the, one of the literati, and a poet, and at this time secretary 
 of legation to the duchy of Saxe- Weimar, is a great favorite 
 of the duke's, our nephew. I met him returning from the 
 parade in company with the duke, who expressed to me the 
 strong desire his secretary had to visit the celebrated house of 
 the great philosopher of Sans-Souci, and see the room once 
 occupied by Voltaire. I could not well refuse, and therefore 
 address these few lines to your majesty before returning to 
 Berlin with the duke, who will dine with me, accompanied 
 
GERMAN LITERATURE AND THE KING. 101 
 
 by his secretary. I am your majesty's most humble servant 
 and brother, Henry." 
 
 " Tell the castellan that I grant him permission to show th^ 
 house and park to the stranger; he shall take cure- not to 
 come in my way, so that I shall be obliged to meet him. Tell 
 this aside, that you may not be overheard. Hasten, for they 
 have already been waiting some time." 
 
 The king walked again to the window, and, hidden by the 
 curtain, peeped out. " So, this is Herr Goethe, is it? 
 What assurance! There he stands, sketching the house. 
 What wonderful eyes the man has ! With what a proud, con- 
 fident manner he looks around ! What a brow ! Truly he is 
 a handsome fellow, and Herzberg may be right after all. 
 That brow betokens thought, and from those eyes there flashes 
 a divine light. But he looks overbearing and proud. Now, 
 I am doubly pleased that I refused Herzberg to have any thing 
 to do with him. Such presumptive geniuses must be rather 
 kept back ; then they feel their power, and strive to bring 
 themselves forward. Yes ! I believe that man has a future* 
 He looks like the youthful god Apollo, who may have con- 
 descended to descend to earth ! He shall not entrap me with 
 his beautiful head. If he is the man who makes good and 
 bad weather in Weimar, he shall learn that rain and sunshine 
 at Sans-Souci do not depend upon him ; that the sun and 
 clouds here do not care whether Herr Goethe is in the world 
 or not. For sunshine and storm we depend upon the Great 
 Weather-Maker, to whom we must all bow; evil and good 
 days in Prussia shall emanate from me, so long as I live. 
 Sometimes I succeed in causing a little sunshine," continued 
 the king. " I believe the Prince of Prussia has to-day felt 
 the happy influence of the sun's rays; and while it is dull and 
 lonely at Sans-Souci, may it be brighter and more cheerful at 
 Charlottenburg ! Eh Men! old boy," said the king, stopping, 
 " you are playing the sentimental, and eulogizing your loneli- 
 ness. Well, well, do not complain. — Oh, come to me, spirits 
 of my friends, and hold converse with me! Voltaire, D'Ar- 
 
102 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 gens, and my beloved Lord-Marshal Keith! Come to me, 
 departed -souls, with the memories of happier days, and hover 
 with thy cheering, sunny influence over the wrinkled brow of 
 oltMriL2",!V . , ; 
 
 Yv'hile the lonely king implored the spirits of his friends, 
 to brighten with their presence the quiet, gloomy apartment 
 at Sans-Souci, the sun shone in full splendor at Charlotten- 
 burg — the sunshine beaming from the munificence of Freder- 
 ick. Wilhelmine Enke had passed the whole day in admiring 
 the beautiful and tasteful arrangement of the villa. Every 
 piece of furniture, every ornament, she examined attentively 
 — all filled her with delight, The prince, who accompanied 
 her from room to room, listened to her outbursts of pleasure, 
 rejoicing. 
 
 " I wish that I could often prepare such happiness for you, 
 dearest, for my heart is twice gladdened to see your beaming 
 face." 
 
 " Reflected from your own. You are my good genius upon 
 earth. You have caused the poor, neglected child to become 
 the rich and happy woman. To you I owe this home, this 
 foot of earth, which I can call my own. Here blossom the 
 flowers for me — here I am mistress, and those who enter 
 must come as my guests, and honor me. All this I owe to 
 you." 
 
 " Not to me," said the prince, smiling; " I only gave to you 
 what was given to me! To the king belong your thanks. 
 Harsh in words, but gentle in deeds, he has given you this 
 refuge, freeing you from the slavery of poverty, from the sor- 
 row of being homeless. But tell it not, Wilhelmine. The 
 king would be angry if it were known that he not only toler- 
 ated but showed great generosity to you. It is a secret that 
 I ought not even to disclose to you. I could not receive your 
 thanks, for I have not deserved them. From the king comes 
 your good fortune, not from me. The day will come when I 
 can requite you, when the poor crown prince becomes the rich 
 king. On that day the golden rain shall again shower upon 
 
GERMAN LITERATURE AND THE KINO. 103 
 
 you, never to cease, and, vying with the shower of gold, the 
 brightest sunbeams play continually around you. As king, I 
 will reward your fidelity and love, which you have proved to 
 the poor crown prince, with splendor, power, and riches. 
 Until then rejoice with the little that his grace has accorded 
 you, and await the much that love will one day bring you. 
 Farewell, Wilhelmine, the evening sets in, and I must forth 
 to Potsdam. The king would never pardon me if I did not 
 pass the last evening with my wife in the circle of my family. 
 Farewell!" 
 
 He embraced her tenderly, and "Wilhelmine accompanied 
 the prince to the carriage, and returned to survey anew the 
 beautiful rooms which were now her own possession. An un- 
 speakable, unknown feeling was roused in her, and voices, 
 which she had never heard, spoke to her from the depths of 
 her heart. " You are no longer a despised, homeless creat- 
 ure," they whispered. " You have a home, a foot of earth to 
 call your own. Make yourself a name, that you may be of 
 consequence in the world. You are clever and beautiful, and 
 with your prudence and beauty you can win a glorious future ! 
 Remember the Marquise de Pompadour, neglected and scorned 
 as you, until a king loved her, and she became the wife of a 
 king, and all France bowed down to her. Even the Empress 
 Maria Theresa honored her with her notice, and called her 
 cousin. I am also the favorite of a future king, and I will 
 also become the queen of my king!" 
 
 Wilhelmine had remained standing in the midst of the 
 great drawing-room, which she was passing through, listening 
 to these seductive voices, to these strange pictures of the 
 future. In her imagination she saw herself in this room sur- 
 rounded with splendor and magnificence, and sparkling with 
 gems. She saw around her elegantly-attired ladies and gentle- 
 men, in brilliant uniforms, glittering with orders; saw every- 
 where smiling faces, and respectful manners. She saw all 
 eyes turned to her, and heard only flattering words, which 
 resounded for her from every lip — for her, once so despised 
 
104 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 and scorned! " It shall be, yes, it shall be," cried she aloud. 
 " I will be the queen of my king ! I will become the Prussian 
 Marquise de Pompadour; that I swear by the heads of my 
 children, by — " 
 
 "Bather swear by thy own beautiful head, Wilhelmine," 
 said a voice behind her. Startled, she turned, and beheld the 
 tall figure of a man, wrapped in a long cloak, who stood in 
 the open door. 
 
 " Who are you?" she cried, amazed. " How dare you enter 
 here?" 
 
 The figure closed the door, without answering, and, slowly 
 approaching Wilhelmine, fixed his black eyes upon her with 
 a searching gaze. She tried to summon help, but the words 
 died on her lips; her cheeks blanched with terror, and, as if 
 rooted to the floor, she stood with outstretched arms implor- 
 ing the approaching form. The figure smiled, but there was 
 something commanding in its manner, and in the fiery eyes, 
 which rested upon her. When quite near her, it raised its 
 right hand with an impatient movement. Immediately her 
 arms fell at her side, her cheeks glowed, and a bright smile 
 lighted up her face. Then it lifted the three-cornered, gold- 
 bordered hat which shaded its face, nodding to her. 
 
 "Do you recognize me, Wilhelmine?" he asked, in a sweet, 
 melodious voice. 
 
 " Yes," she answered, her eyes still fixed upon him. " You 
 are Cagliostro, the great ruler and magician." 
 
 " Where did we meet?" 
 
 " I remember ; it was in Paris, at the house of the governor 
 of the Bastile, M. Delaunay. You caused me to read in a 
 glass the future — a bright, glorious future. I was surrounded 
 with splendor and magnificence. I saw myself glittering with 
 gems ; a king knelt at my feet. I was encircled by richly- 
 attired courtiers, who bowed before me, and honored me, 
 whispering: 'We salute you, beautiful countess; be 
 gracious to us, exalted princess!' It sounded like heavenly 
 music, and I shouted with delight." 
 

 
 GERMAN LITERATURE AND THE KING. 105 
 
 "Was that all?" said Cagliostro, solemnly, "that the crys- 
 tal showed you." 
 
 Shuddering, she murmured: "The splendor, glory, and 
 power vanished, and all was changed to a fearful picture. I 
 saw myself in a plain, dark dress, in a deserted, lonely room, 
 with iron-barred windows, and a small iron door closed in the 
 dreary white walls — it was a prison! And I heard whispered 
 around me: 'Woe to you, fallen and dethroned one! You 
 have wasted away the days of your splendor, submit in patience 
 to the days of your shame and humiliation. ' I could not en- 
 dure to behold it, and screamed with terror, fainting." 
 
 " You demanded to see the future, and I showed it to you," 
 said Cagliostro, earnestly. " Though I let the light shine 
 into your soul, still it was dark within ; you pursued the way 
 of unbelief, and desired not to walk in the way of knowledge. 
 I sent messengers twice to you to lead you in the right path, 
 and you sent them laughing away. Kecall what I told you in 
 Paris. I will it!" 
 
 "I remember, master; you said that in the most important 
 days of my life you would come to me, and extend to me a 
 helping hand : if I seized it, the first picture would be ful- 
 filled; if I refused it, the prison awaited me!" 
 
 " I have kept my word : to-day is an eventful day in your 
 life ; you have risen from want and degradation — you have 
 mounted the first rounds of the ladder of your greatness and 
 power. You are the mistress of this house." 
 
 " How did you know it?" asked Wilhelmine, astonished. 
 
 With a pitying smile he answered: "I know every thing 
 that I will, and I see many things that I would willingly close 
 my eyes upon. I see your future, and my soul pities you, un- 
 happy one ; you are lost if you do not seize the hand extended 
 to you. You see not the abyss which opens before you, and 
 you will fall bleeding and with broken limbs." 
 
 "Mercy, mercy!" she groaned — "stretch out your hand 
 and protect me." 
 
 Wilhelmine sank as if crushed to the earth. Cagliostro 
 8 
 
106 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 bent over her, and stroked her cold, pale face, breathing npon 
 her the hot breath of his lips. " I will pity you — I will pro- 
 tect you. Rise, my daughter!" He assisted her to rise, and 
 imprinted a passionate kiss upon her hand. " From this hour 
 I count you as one of mine, he said; you shall be received 
 into the holy band of spirits ! You shall be consecrated, and 
 enter the Inner Temple. Are you prepared?" 
 
 " I am, master," she humbly replied. 
 
 " To-morrow the Temple brothers will open the temple of 
 bliss to you. You shall hear, see, and be silent." 
 
 " I will see, hear, and be silent," she murmured. 
 
 "When evening sets in, send away your servants," com- 
 manded Cagliostro. " Let the doors stand open ; they shall 
 be guarded, that no one may enter but the summoned. Art 
 thou prepared?" 
 
 "I am, master!" 
 
 'Withdraw now to your room, Wilhelmine, and elevate 
 your thoughts in devotion and contrition, and await the 
 future. Kneel, my daughter, kneel!" 
 
 She sank upon her knees. " Bless me, master, bless me!" 
 
 "I bless you!" 
 
 She felt a hot, burning sensation upon her forehead, and 
 suddenly a bright light shone in the obscure room. Wilhel- 
 mine screamed, and covered her eyes. When she ventured to* 
 look up, only soft moonlight penetrated from the high win- 
 dow into the apartment, and she was alone. " To-morrow- 
 to-morrow, at midnight!" she murmured, shuddering, and 
 casting a timid look around. 
 
BOOK IL 
 
 ROSICRUCIANS AND POWERFUL GENIUSES. 
 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 GOETHE IN BERLIN. 
 
 '* I wish I only knew whether it were a man, or whether the 
 god Apollo has really appeared to me in human form," sighed 
 Conrector Moritz, as he paced his room — a strange, gloomy 
 apartment, quite in keeping with the singular occupant— 
 gray walls, with Greek apothegms inscribed upon them in 
 large letters — dirty windows, pasted over with strips of paper; 
 high, open book-shelves, containing several hundred books, 
 some neatly arranged, others thrown together in confusion. 
 In the midst of a chaos of books and papers stood a colossal 
 bust of the Apollo-Belvedere upon a table near the window, 
 the whiteness and beauty of which were in singular contrast 
 to the dust and disorder which surrounded it. 
 
 At the back of the room was an open wardrobe, filled with 
 gay-colored garments. A beautiful carpet of brilliant colors 
 covered the middle of the dirty floor, and upon this paced to 
 and fro the strange occupant of this strange room, Philip 
 Charles Moritz, conrector of the college attached to the Gray 
 Monastery. There was no trace of the bearing and demeanor 
 which distinguished him at the parade at Potsdam yester- 
 day — no trace of the young elegant, dressed in the latest fash- 
 ion. To-day he wore a white garment, of no particular style, 
 tied at the neck with a red ribbon (full sleeves, buttoned at 
 the wrist with lace-cuffs) ; and, falling from the shoulders in 
 
108 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 scanty folds to just below the knees, it displayed his bare 
 legs, and his feet shod with red sandals. 
 
 His hair was unpowdered, and not tied in a cue, according 
 jo the fashion, but hung in its natural brown color, flowing 
 ^uite loosely, merely confined by a red ribbon wound in 
 imong his curls, and hanging down in short bows at each 
 temple like the frontlet of the old Eomans. Thus, in this 
 singular costume, belonging half to old Adam, and half to 
 the old Eomans, Philip Moritz walked back and forth upon 
 the carpet, ruminating upon the beaming beauty of the 
 stranger whose acquaintance he had so recently made, and 
 whom he could not banish from his thoughts. " What wicked 
 demon induced me to go to Potsdam yesterday?" said he to 
 himself. " I who hate mankind, and believe that they are 
 all of vulgar, ordinary material, yield to the longing for so- 
 ciety, and am driven again into the world." 
 
 A loud knocking at the door interrupted this soliloquy, and 
 the door opened at the commanding " Come in!" 
 
 " It is he, it is Apollo," cried Moritz, joyfully. " Come in, 
 sir, come in — I have awaited you with the most ardent desire." 
 
 Moritz rushed to the young gentleman, who had just closed 
 the door, and whose beautiful, proud face lighted up with a 
 smile at the singular apparition before him. " Pardon me, I 
 •disturb you, sir; you were about to make your toilet. Permit 
 2ne to return after you have dressed." 
 
 "You are mistaken," cried Moritz, eagerly. "You find 
 •He in my usual home-dress — I like my ease and freedom, and 
 j. am of opinion that mankind will never be happy and con- 
 sented until they return to their natural state, wearing no 
 more clothing, but glorying in the beauty which bountiful 
 Nature has bestowed upon her most loved and chosen 
 subjects." 
 
 "Sir," cried the other, laughing, "then benevolent Nature 
 should adapt her climate accordingly, and relieve her dear 
 creatures from the inclination to take cold. " 
 
 "You may be right," said Moritz, earnestly, "but we will 
 
GOETHE IN BERLIN. 109 
 
 not quarrel about it. Will you not keep your promise to re- 
 veal to me your name?" 
 
 " Tell me your own once more. Tell me if this youth, 
 whom I see before me in this ideal dress, is the same modest 
 young man whom I met at the parade yesterday, and who 
 presented himself as Philip Moritz? Then please to inform 
 me whether you are the Philip Moritz who wrote a spirited 
 and cordial letter to Johann Wolfgang Goethe some years 
 since about the tragedy of 'Stella,' the representation of 
 which had been forbidden at that time?" 
 
 " Yes, I am the same Philip Moritz, who wrote to the poet 
 Goethe to prove to him, with the most heart-felt sympathy, 
 that we are not all such stupid fellows in Berlin as Nicolai, 
 who pronounced the tragedy 'Stella' immoral; that it is only, 
 as Goethe himself called it, 'a play for lovers.' " 
 
 " And will you not be kind enough to tell me what response 
 the poet made to your amiable letter?" 
 
 " Proud and amiable at the same time, most gracefully he 
 answered me, but not with words. He sent me his tragedy 
 'Stella' bound in rose-colored satin.* See there! it is before 
 the bust of Apollo on my writing-table, where it has lain for 
 three years!" 
 
 " What did he write to you at the same time?" 
 
 "Nothing — why should he? Was not the book sufficient 
 answer?" 
 
 " Did he write nothing? Permit me to say to you that 
 Goethe behaved like a brute and an ass to you!" 
 
 " Sir," cried Moritz, angrily, " I forbid you to speak of my 
 favorite in so unbecoming a manner in my room!" 
 
 " Sir," cried the other, "you dare not fo bid me. I insist 
 upon it that that man is sometimes a brute and an ass! I 
 can penitently acknowledge it to you, dear Moritz, for I am 
 Johann Wolfgang Goethe himself!" 
 
 "Yon, you are Goethe!" shouted Moritz, as he seized him 
 
 * " Goethe in Berlin."— Sketches from his life at the anniversary of his one hun- 
 dredth birthday. 
 
110 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 with both hands, drawing him toward the window, and gazing 
 at him with the greatest enthusiasm and delight. " Yes, yes," 
 i he shouted, " you are either Apollo or Goethe ! The gods are 
 not so stupid as to return to this miserable world, so you must 
 be Goethe. No other man would dare to sport such a godlike 
 face as you do, you favorite of the gods !" 
 
 He then loosed his hold upon the smiling poet, and sprang 
 to the writing-table. "Listen, Apollo," he cried, with wild 
 joy. " Goethe is here, thy dear son is here ! Hurrah ! long 
 live Goethe!" 
 
 He took the rose-colored little book, and shouting tossed it 
 to the ceiling, and sprang about like a mad bacchant, and 
 finally threw himself upon the carpet, rolling over and over 
 like a frolicksome, good-natured child upon its nurse's lap. 
 
 Goethe laughed aloud. " What are you doing, dear Moritz? 
 What does this mean?" he asked. 
 
 Moritz stopped a moment, looking up to Goethe with a face 
 beaming with joy. "I cannot better express my happiness. 
 Language is too feeble — too poor!" 
 
 "If that is the case, then I will join you," said Goethe, 
 throwing himself upon the carpet, rolling and tumbling 
 about.* 
 
 All at once Moritz jumped up without saying a word, 
 rushed to the wardrobe, dressed himself in modest attire in 
 a few moments, and presented himself to Goethe, who rose 
 from the carpet quite astounded at the sudden metamorphosis. 
 Then he seized his three-cornered hat to go out, when Goethe 
 held him fast. 
 
 " You are not going into the street, sir ! You forget that 
 your hair is flying about as if unloosed by a divine madness." 
 Sir, people are quite accustomed to see me in a strange 
 costume, and the most of them think me crazy. " 
 
 * This scene which I relate, and which Teichman also mentions in his "Leaves of 
 Memory of Goethe in Berlin," has been often related to me by Ludwig Tieck exactly 
 in this manner. Teichman believes it was the poet Burman. But I remember dis- 
 tinctly that Ludwig Tieck told me that it was the eccentric savant, Philip Moritz, with 
 whom Goethe made the acquaintance in this original manner.— The Authoress. 
 
GOETHE IN BERLIN. Ill 
 
 " You are aware that insane people believe that they only 
 are sane, and that reasonable people are insane. You will 
 grant me that it is much more like a crazy person to strew his 
 hair with flour, and tie it up in that ridiculous cue, than to 
 wear it as God made it, uncombed and unparted, as I do my 
 beautiful hair, and for which they call me crazy! But, for 
 Heaven's sake, where are you going?" asked Goethe, strug- 
 gling to retain him. 
 
 " I am going to trumpet through every street in Berlin that 
 the author of 'Werther,' of 'Clavigo,' of 'Gotz von Berlichin- 
 gen,' of * Stella,' of the most beautiful poems, is in my hum- 
 ble apartment. I will call in all the little poets and savants 
 of Berlin; I will drag Mammler, Nicolai, Engel, Spaulding, 
 Gedicke, Plumicke, Karschin, and Burman here. They shall 
 all come to see Wolfgang Goethe, and adore him. The in- 
 significant poets shall pay homage to thee, the true poet, the 
 favorite of Apollo." 
 
 " My dear Moritz, if you leave me for that, I will run away r 
 and you will trouble yourself in vain. " 
 
 " Impossible ; you will be my prisoner until I return. I 
 shall lock you in, and you cannot escape by the window, as I 
 fortunately live on the third story." 
 
 "But I shall not wait to be locked in," answered Goethe, 
 slightly annoyed. " I came to see you, and if you run away I 
 shall go also, and I advise you not to try to prevent me." 
 His voice resounded through the apartment, growing louder 
 as he spoke, his cheeks flushed, and his high, commanding 
 brow contracted. 
 
 "Jupiter Tonans!" cried Moritz, regarding him, "you are 
 truly Jupiter Tonans in person, and I bow before you and 
 obey your command. I shall remain to worship you, and gaze 
 at you." 
 
 " And it may be possible to speak in a reasonable manner 
 to me," said Goethe, coaxingly. "Away with sentimentality 
 and odors of incense! We are no sybarites, to feed on sweet- 
 meats and cakes; but we are men who have a noble aim in 
 
112 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 view, attained only by a thorny path. Our eyes must re- 
 main fixed upon the goal, and nothing must divert them 
 from it." 
 
 "What is the aim that we should strive for?" asked Mor- 
 itz, his whole being suddenly changing, and his manner ex- 
 pressing the greatest depression and sadness. 
 
 Goethe smiled. " How can you ask, as if you did not know 
 it yourself. Self-knowledge should be our first aim! The 
 ■ancient philosophers were wise to have inscribed over the en- 
 trances to their temples, 'Know thyself,' in order to remind 
 all approaching, to examine themselves before they entered 
 the halls of the gods. Is not the human heart equally a tem- 
 ple? only the demons and the gods strive together therein, 
 unfortunately. To drive the former out, and give place to 
 the latter, should be our aim ; and when once purified, and 
 room is given for good deeds and great achievements, we shall 
 not rest satisfied simply to conquer, but rise with gladness to 
 build altars upon those places which we have freed from the 
 demons ; for that, we must steadily keep in view truth and 
 reality, and not hide them with a black veil, or array them in 
 party-colored rags. Our ideas must be clear about the con- 
 sequences of things, that we may not be like those foolish men 
 who drink wine every evening and complain of headache every 
 morning, resorting to preventives." 
 
 Did Goethe know the struggles and dissensions which rent 
 the heart of the young man to whom he spoke? Had his 
 searching eyes read the secrets which were hidden in that 
 darkened soul? He regarded him as he spoke with so much 
 commiseration that Moritz's heart softened under the genial 
 influence of sympathy and kindness. A convulsive trembling 
 seized him, his cheeks were burning red, and his features ex- 
 pressed the struggle within. Suddenly he burst into tears. 
 U I am very, very wretched," he sighed, with a voice suffo- 
 cated by weeping, and sank upon a chair, sobbing aloud, and 
 covering his face with his hands. 
 
 Goethe approached him, and laid his hand gently upon his 
 
GOETHE IN BERLIN. 113 
 
 shoulder. " Why are you so miserable"? Is there any human 
 being who can help you?" he kindly inquired. 
 
 "Yes," sobbed Moritz; "there are those who could, but 
 they will not, and I am lost. I stand upon the brink of a 
 precipice, with Insanity staring at me, grinning and showing 
 her teeth. I know it, but cannot retreat. I wear the mask 
 of madness to conceal my careworn face. Your divine eyes 
 could not be deceived. You have not mistaken the caricature 
 for the true face. You have penetrated beneath the gay tat- 
 ters, and have seen the misery which sought to hide itself 
 there." 
 
 " I saw it, and I bewailed it, as a friend pities a friend 
 whom he would willingly aid if he only knew how to do it. " 
 
 "No one can help me," sighed Moritz, shaking his head 
 mournfully. " I am lost, irremediably lost!" 
 
 " No one is lost who will save himself. He who is wrecked 
 by a storm and tossed upon the raging sea, ought to be upon 
 the watch for a plank by which he can save himself. He 
 must keep his eyes open, and not let his arms hang idly ; for 
 if he allows himself to be swallowed up he becomes a self- 
 murderer, who, like Erostratus, destroyed the holy temple, 
 and gained eternal fame through eternal shame." 
 
 " What are you saying?" cried Moritz, "you, the author of 
 *Werther,' of that immortal work which has drunk the tears 
 of the whole world, and has become the Holy Testament for 
 unhappy souls!" 
 
 " Eather say for lovers," replied Goethe, " and add also 
 those troubled spirits who think themselves poetical when they 
 whine and howl ; who cry over misfortune if Fate denies them 
 the toy which their vanity, their ambition, or their amorous- 
 ness, had chosen. Do not burden me with what I am not 
 guilty of; do not say that wine is a poison, because it is not 
 good for the sick. It is intended for well people; it animates 
 and inspires them to fresh vigor. Now please to consider 
 yourself well, and not ill." 
 
 " I am ill, indeed I am ill," sighed Moritz. " Oh ! continue 
 
114 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 to regard me with those eyes, which shine like stars into my 
 benighted soul. I feel like one who has long wandered 
 through the desert, his feet burnt with the sand, his hair 
 scorched with the sun, and, exhausted with hunger and thirst, 
 feels death approaching. Suddenly he discovers a green oasis, 
 and a being with outstretched arms calling to him with a soft, 
 angel-like voice: 'Come, save thyself in my arms; feel that 
 thou art not alone in the desert, for I am with thee, and will 
 sustain thee!' " 
 
 "And I say it to you from the bottom of my heart," said 
 Goethe, affectionately. " Yes, here is one, who is only too 
 happy to aid you, who can sympathize with every sorrow, be- 
 cause he has himself felt it in his own breast, who may even 
 say of himself, like Ovid: 'Nothing human is strange to 
 me.' If I can aid you, say so, and I will willingly do it." 
 
 "No, you cannot," murmured Moritz. 
 
 " At least confide your grief to me; that is an alleviation." 
 
 " Oh, how kind and generous you are!" Moritz said, press- 
 ing the hand of his new-made friend to his bosom. " How 
 much good it does me to listen to you, and look at your beau- 
 tiful face ! I believed myself steeled against every thing that 
 could happen to mortals; that the fool which I would be had 
 killed within me the higher man. I was almost proud to 
 have succeeded in deceiving men; that they mistook my gro- 
 tesque mask for my real face; that they point the finger 
 at me, and laugh, saying to each other: 'That is a fool, an 
 original, whom Nature herself has chosen as a kind of court 
 fool to society. • No one has understood the cry of distress of 
 my soul. Those who laughed at the comical fellow by day, 
 little dreamed of the anguish and misery in which he sighed 
 away the night." 
 
 " You not only wrong yourself, but you wrong mankind," 
 said Goethe, kindly. " In the world, and in literature, you 
 bear an honored name; every one of education is familiar 
 with your excellent work on 'Prosody of the German Lan- 
 guage' — has read also your spirited Journey to England. 
 

 GOETHE IN BERLIN. 115 
 
 You have no right to ask that one should separate the kernel 
 from the shell in hastily passing by. If you surround your- 
 self with a wall bedaubed with caricatures, you cannot expect 
 that people will look behind what seems an entrance to a 
 puppet-show, to find holy temples, blooming gardens, or a 
 church -yard filled with graves." 
 
 " That is just what I resemble," said Moritz, with a melan- 
 choly air. " From the depths of my soul it seems so. Noth- 
 ing but buried hopes, murdered ideals, and wishes trodden 
 under foot. From childhood I have exerted myself against 
 circumstances ; I have striven my whole life — a pledge of my 
 being against unpropitious Fate. Although the son of a poor 
 tradesman, Nature had given me a thirst for knowledge, a 
 love for science and art. On account of it I passed for a 
 stupid idler in the family, who would not contribute to his 
 own support. Occupation with books was accounted idleness 
 and laziness by my father. I was driven to work with blows 
 and ill-treatment; and, that I might the sooner equal my 
 father as a good shoemaker, I was bound to the stool near his 
 own. During the long, fearful days I was forced to sit and 
 draw the pitched, offensive thread through the leather, and 
 when my arms were lame, and sank weary at my side, then I 
 was invigorated to renewed exertion with blows. Finally, 
 with the courage of despair, I fled from this life of torture. 
 Unacquainted with the world, and inexperienced, I hoped for 
 the sympathy of men, but in vain. No one would relieve or 
 assist me ! Days and weeks long I have wandered around in 
 che forest adjoining our little village, and lived like the 
 animals, upon roots and herbs. Yet I was happy! I had 
 c;iken with me in my flight two books which I had received as 
 prizes, in the happy days that my father permitted me to go 
 to the Latin school. The decision of the teacher that I was 
 created for a scholar, so terrified my father, that he took me 
 from the school, to turn the embryo savant, who would be 
 good for nothing, into a shoemaker, who might earn his 
 bread. My two darling books remained to me. In the forest 
 
116 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 solitude I read Ovid and Virgil until I had memorized them, 
 and recited them aloud, in pathetic tones, for my own amuse- 
 ment. To-day I recall those weeks in the forest stillness as 
 the happiest, purest, and most beautiful of my life." 
 
 " And they undoubtedly are," said Goethe, kindly. " The 
 return to Nature is the return to one's self. Who will be an 
 able, vigorous man and remain so, must, above all things, live 
 in and with Nature." 
 
 "But oh! this happy life did not long continue," sighed 
 Moritz. " My father discovered my retreat, and came with 
 sheriffs and bailiffs to seize me like a criminal — like a wild 
 animal. With my hands bound, I was brought back in broad 
 day, amid the jeers of street boys. Perrrn* me to pass in 
 silence the degradation, the torture whicn followed. I be- 
 came a burden to myself, and longed for death. The ill- 
 treatment of my father finally revived my courage to run 
 away the second time. I went to a large town near by, and 
 decided to earn my living rather than return to my father. 
 To fulfil the prophecy of my teacher was my ambition. The 
 privations that I endured, the life I led, I will not recount 
 to you. I performed the most menial service, and worked 
 months like a beast of burden. For want of a shelter, I slept 
 in deserted yards and tumble-down houses. Upon a piece of 
 bread and a drink of water I lived, saving, with miserly 
 greediness, the money which I earned as messenger or day- 
 laborer. At the end of a year, I had earned sufficient to buy 
 an old suit of clothes at a second-hand clothing-store, and 
 present myself to the director of the Gymnasium, imploring 
 him to receive me as pupil. Bitterly weeping, I opened my 
 heart to him, and disclosed the torture of my sad life as a 
 child, and begged him to give me the opportunity to educate 
 myself. He repulsed me with scorn, and threatened to give 
 me over to the police, as a runaway, as a vagabond, and beg- 
 gar. 'I am no beggar!' I cried, vehemently, 'I will be under 
 obligation to no one. I have money to pay for two years in 
 advance, and during this time I shall be able to earn sufficient 
 
GOETHE IN BERLIN. 11? 
 
 to pay for the succeeding two years. ' This softened the anger 
 of the crabbed director ; he was friendly and kind, and prom- 
 ised me his assistance." 
 
 "Poor boy!" sighed Goethe. "So young, and yet forced 
 to learn that there is a power to which not only kings and 
 princes, but mind must bow; to which science and art have 
 submitted, as to their Maecenas! This power opened the 
 doors of the Gymnasium to you." 
 
 " It was even thus. The director took pity upon me, and 
 permitted me to enter upon my studies at once; he did more,, 
 he assured my future. Oh, he was a humane and kind man! 
 "When he learned that I possessed nothing but the little sum 
 to which the drops of blood of a year's toil still clung, 
 then—" 
 
 "He returned it to you," interrupted Goethe, kindly. 
 
 "No, he offered me board, lodging, and clothing, during 
 my course at the Gymnasium." 
 
 " That was well," cried Goethe. " Tell me the name of this 
 honorable man, that I may meet him and extend to him my 
 hand." 
 
 A troubled smile spread over Philip's face. " Permit me 
 for the time being to conceal the name," he replied. " I re- 
 ceived the generous proposal gratefully, and asked, deeply 
 moved, if there were no services which I could return for so 
 much kindness and generosity. It proved that there were, 
 and the director made them known to me. He was un- 
 married, hence the necessity of men's service. I should be 
 society for him — be a companion, in fact; I should do what 
 every grateful son would do for his father — help him dress, 
 keep his room in order, and prepare his breakfast." 
 
 "That meant that you should be his servant!" cried Goe- 
 the, indignant. 
 
 'Only in the morning," replied Moritz, smiling. "Even- 
 ings and nights I should have the honor to be his amanuensis; 
 I should look over the studies of the scholars, and correct 
 their exercises; and when I had made sufficient progress, it 
 
118 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 should be my duty to give two hours to different classes, and 
 I should read aloud or play cards with the director on leisure 
 evenings. Besides, I was obliged to promise never to leave 
 the house without his permission ; never to speak to, or hold 
 intercourse with, any one outside the hours of instruction. 
 All these conditions were written down, and signed by both 
 parties, as if a business contract." 
 
 " A transaction by which a human soul was bargained for!" 
 thundered Goethe. "Keveal to me, now, the name of this 
 trader of souls, that I may expose him to public shame!" 
 
 "He died a year since," replied Moritz, softened. "God 
 summoned him to judgment. When the physician announced 
 to him that the cancer was incurable, when he felt death ap- 
 proaching, he sent for me, and begged my forgiveness, with 
 tears and deep contrition. I forgave him, so let me cease to 
 recall the life I passed with him. By the sweat of my brow 
 I was compelled to serve him ; for seven long years I was his 
 slave. I sold myself for the sake of knowledge, I was consoled 
 by progress. I was the servant, companion, jester, and slave 
 of my tyrant, but I was also the disciple, the priest of learn- 
 ing. In my own room my chains fell off. In the lonely 
 night-watches I communed with the great, the immortal 
 spirits of Horace, Virgil, and even the proud Caesar, and the 
 divine Homer. Those solitary but happy hours of the night 
 are never to be forgotten, never to be portrayed; they re- 
 freshed me for the trials of the day, and enabled me to endure 
 them ! At the close of seven years I was prepared to enter 
 the university, and the bargain between my master and myself 
 was also at an end. Freed from my tyrant, I bent my steps 
 toward Frankfort University, to feel my liberty enchained 
 anew. For seven years I had been the slave of the director ; 
 now I became the slave of poverty, forced to labor to live ! 
 Oh, I cannot recall those scenes ! Suffice it to say, that dur- 
 ing one year I had no fixed abode, never tasted warm food. 
 But it is passed — I have conquered! After years of struggle, 
 of exertion, of silent misery, only relieved by my stolen hours 
 
GOETHE IN BERLIN. 119 
 
 of blissful study, I gained my reward. I was free ! My ex- 
 amination passed, I was honored with the degrees of Doctor 
 of Philosophy and Master of Arts. After many intervening 
 events, I was appointed conrector of the college attached to 
 the Gray Monastery, which position now supports me." 
 
 "God be praised, I breathe freely!" answered Goethe, with 
 one of those sunny smiles which, in a moment of joyful ex- 
 citement, lighted up his face. " I feel like one shipwrecked, 
 who has, at last, reached a safe harbor. I rejoice in your 
 rescue as if it were my own. Now you are safe. You have 
 reached the port, and in the quiet happiness of your own 
 library you will win new laurels. Why, then, still dispirited 
 and unhappy? The past, with its sorrows and humiliations, 
 is forgotten, the present is satisfactory, and the future is full 
 of hope for you." 
 
 "Full of misery is the present," cried Philip, angrily, "and 
 filled with despair I glance at the future. You do not see it 
 with your divine eyes, you do not perceive it, poet with the 
 sympathetic soul. You, too, thought that Philip Moritz had 
 only a head for the sciences, and forgot that he had a heart 
 to love. I tell you that he has a warm, affectionate heart, 
 torn with grief and all the tortures of jealousy ; that disap- 
 pointed happiness maddens him. I was not created to be 
 happy, and my whole being longs for happiness. Oh ! I would 
 willingly give my life for one day by the side of the one I 
 love." 
 
 " Do not trifle," said Goethe, angrily. " He who has striven 
 and struggled as you have, dare not offer, for any woman, 
 however beautiful and seductive, to yield his life, which has 
 been destined to a higher aim than mere success in love. 
 Perhaps you think that God has infused a ray of His intelli- 
 gence into the mind of man, created him immortal, and 
 breathed upon him with His world-creating breath only, to 
 make him happy, and find that happiness in love! No! my 
 friend, God has given to man like faculties with Himself, and 
 inspired him, that he might be a worthy representative of 
 
120 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW EEA. 
 
 Him upon the earth ; that he should prove, in his life, that 
 he is not only the blossom, but the fruit also, of God's cre- 
 ation. Love is to man the perfume of his existence. She 
 may intoxicate him for a while, may inspire him to poetical 
 effusions, to great deeds, even ; but he should hesitate to let 
 her become his mistress, to let her be the tyrant of his exist- 
 ence. If she would enchain him, he must tear himself away, 
 even if he tear out his own heart. Man possesses that which 
 is more ennobling than mere feeling; he has intellect — 
 soul." 
 
 "Ah!" cried Moritz, " it is easy to see that you have never 
 loved madly, despairingly. You have never seen the woman 
 whom you adore, and who perhaps reciprocates your passion, 
 forced to marry another." 
 
 A shadow flitted over Goethe's brow, and the flashing bril- 
 liancy of his eyes was changed to gloomy sadness. Gently, 
 but quickly, he laid his hand upon Moritz's shoulder, saying: 
 " In this hour, when two souls are revealed to each other, will 
 I acknowledge to you that which I have never spoken of. I, 
 too, love a woman, who loves me, and yet can never be mine, 
 for she is married to another. I love this sweet woman as I 
 have never loved a mortal being. For years my existence has 
 belonged to her, she has been the centre of all my thoughts. 
 It would seem to me as if the earth were without a sun, heaven 
 without a God, if she should vanish from life. I even bless 
 the torture which her prudery, her alternate coldness and 
 friendliness cause me, as it comes from her, from the highest 
 bliss of feeling. This passion has swept through my soul, as 
 if uniting in itself all my youthful loves, till, like a torrent, 
 ever renewing itself, ever moving onward, it has become the 
 highway of my future. Upon this stream floats the bark 
 laden with all my happiness, fame, and poetry. The palaces 
 which my fancy creates rise upon its shore. Every zephyr, 
 however slight, makes me tremble. Every cloud which over- 
 shadows the brow of my beloved, sweeps like a tempest over 
 my own. I live upon her smile. A kind word falling from 
 
GOETHE IN BERLIN. 121 
 
 her lips makes me happy for days; and when she turns 
 away from me with coldness and indifference, I feel like one 
 driven about as Orestes by the Furies." 
 
 " You really are in love ! " cried Moritz. " I will take back 
 what I have said. You, the chosen of the gods, know all the 
 human heart can suffer, even unhappy love." 
 
 Almost angry, and with hesitation, Goethe answered him: 
 " 1 do not call this passion of mine an unhappy one, for in 
 the very perception of it lies happiness. We are only wretched 
 when we lose self-control. To this point Love shall never 
 lead me. She yields me the highest delight, but she shall 
 never bring me to self-destruction. Grief for her may, like 
 a destructive whirlwind, crush every blossom of my heart; 
 but she shall never destroy me. The man, the poet, must 
 stand higher than the lover; for where the latter is about to 
 yield to despair, the former will rise, and, with the defiance 
 of Prometheus, challenge the gods to recognize the godlike 
 similitude, that man can rise superior to sorrow, never des- 
 pairing, never cursing Fate if all the rosy dreams of youth are 
 not realities, but with upturned gaze stride over the waste 
 places of life, consoling himself with the thought that only 
 magnanimous souls can suffer and conquer magnanimously. 
 Vanquished grief brings us nearer to the immortal, and 
 gradually bears us from this vale of sorrow up to the brighter 
 heights, nearer to God — the earth with her petty confusion 
 lying like a worthless tool at our feet!" 
 
 " It is heavenly to be able to say that, and divine to per- 
 ceive it," cried Moritz, bursting into tears. " The miseries of 
 life chain me to the dust, and do not permit me to mount to 
 the heights which a hero like Goethe reaches victorious. It 
 is indeed sublime to conquer one's self, and be willing to re- 
 sign the happiness which flees us. But see how weak I am — 
 I cannot do it ! I can never give up the one I love. It seems 
 as if I could move heaven and earth to conquer at last, and 
 that I must die if I do not succeed — die like Werther." 
 
 Goethe's eyes flashed with anger, and with heightened 
 
122 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 color he exclaimed : " You all repeat the same litany — do not 
 make me answerable for all your weaknesses, and blame poor 
 Werther for the creations of your own imagination. I, who 
 am the author of Werther, am free from this abominable sen- 
 timentality. Why cannot others be, who only read what I 
 have conceived? But pardon my violence," he continued, 
 with a milder voice and gentler manner. " Never did an au- 
 thor create a work which brought him at the same time so 
 great fame and bitter reproach as this work has brought to 
 me. 'The Sorrows of Young Werther' have indeed been 
 transformed into the sorrows of young Goethe, and I even 
 fear that old Goethe will have to suffer for it. I have spoken 
 to you as a friend to a friend: cherish my words, take them 
 to heart, and arise from the dust ; shake off the self-strewn 
 ashes from your head. Enter again as a brave champion the 
 combat of life — summon to your aid cunning, power, pru- 
 dence, and audacity, to conquer your love. Whether you 
 succeed or not, then you aim at the greatest of battles — that 
 of mind over matter — then remember my farewell words. 
 From the power which binds all men he frees himself who 
 conquers himself. — Farewell! If ever you need the encour- 
 agement of a friend, if ever a sympathizing soul is necessary 
 to you, come to Weimar; sympathy and appreciation shall 
 never fail you there." 
 
 "Oh! I will surely go," answered Moritz, deeply moved, 
 and pressing heartily Goethe's offered hand. 
 
 " One thing more I have to say to you : Live much with 
 Nature; accustom yourself to regard the sparrow, the flower, 
 or the stone, as worthy of your attention as the wonderful 
 phoenix or the monuments of the ancients with their illegible 
 inscriptions. To walk with Nature is balsam for a weary 
 soul ; gently touched by her soft hands, the recovery is most 
 rapid. I have experienced it, and do experience it daily. 
 Now, once more, farewell ; in the true sense of the word f are- 
 thee-well! I wish that I could help you in other ways than 
 by mere kind words. It pains me indeed that I can render 
 
THE INNER AND THE MIDDLE TEMPLE. 123 
 
 yon no other aid or hope. Yon alone can do what none other 
 can do for you. — Farewell!" 
 
 He turned, and motioning to Moritz not to follow him, 
 almost flew down the stairs into the street. Drawing a long 
 breath, he stood leaning against the door, gazing at the 
 crowd — at the busy passers-by — some merrily chatting with 
 their companions, others with earnest mien and in busy haste. 
 No one seemed to care for him, no one looked at him. If by 
 chance they glanced at him, Johann "Wolfgang Goethe was of 
 no more consequence to them than any other honest citizen 
 in a neighboring doorway. 
 
 Without perhaps acknowledging it to himself, Goethe was 
 a little vexed that no one observed him ; that the weather- 
 maker from Weimar, who was accustomed to be greeted there, 
 and everywhere, indeed, with smiles and bows, should here 
 in Berlin be only an ordinary mortal — a stranger among 
 strangers. "I would not live here," said he, as he walked 
 slowly down the street. " What are men in great cities but 
 grains of sand, now blown together and then asunder? There 
 is no individuality, one is only a unit in the mass! But it is 
 well occasionally to look into such a kaleidoscope, and admire 
 the play of colors, which I have done, and with a glad heart 
 I will now fly home to all my friends — to you, beloved one — 
 to you, Charlotte!" 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE INNER AND THE MIDDLE TEMPLE. 
 
 Wilhelmine Enke had passed the day in great anxiety and 
 excitement, and not even the distraction of her new posses- 
 sion had been able to calm the beating of her heart or allay 
 her fears. Prince Frederick William had arrived early in the 
 morning, to bid her farewell, as he was to march in the course 
 of the day with his regiments from Potsdam. With the 
 tenderest assurances of love he took leave of Wilhelmine, and 
 
124 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 with tears kissed his two children, pressing them to his heart. 
 As he was about to enter his carriage he returned to the house 
 to embrace his weeping mistress, and reassure her of his fidel- 
 ity, and make her promise him again and again that she 
 would remain true to him, and never love another. 
 
 It was not alone the farewell to her beloved prince which 
 caused Wilhelmine such anxiety and made her so restless. 
 Like a dark cloud the remembrance of Cagliostro's mysterious 
 appearance arose in her mind, overshadowing her every hour 
 more and more, filling her soul with terror. In vain did she 
 seek refuge near her children, trying to cheer and forget her- 
 self in their innocent amusement — one moment running 
 about the garden with them, then returning to the house to 
 reexamine it. Her thoughts would revert to Cagliostro, and 
 the solemnities which were to take place at her house that 
 night. The thought terrified her that at nightfall she was 
 obliged to send away all her servants, and not even be per- 
 mitted to lock herself in the lonely, deserted house. For the 
 great magician had commanded her to let the doors of her 
 house stand open ; he would place sentinels at every entrance, 
 and none but the elect would be allowed to enter. Wilhel- 
 mine had not the courage to resist this command. As even- 
 ing approached, she sent the cook, with other servants, to her 
 apartment at Berlin, ordering them to pack her furniture 
 and other effects, and send them by a hired wagon to Ohar- 
 lottenburg the following morning. An hour previous to this 
 she had sent the nurse and two children to Potsdam with a 
 similar commission, ordering them t<! return early the next 
 day. Alone she now awaited with feverish anxiety Caglios- 
 tro's appearance. Again and again she wandered through the 
 silent, deserted rooms frightened at the sound of her own 
 footsteps, and peering into each room as if an assassin or 
 robber were lurking there. She had many enemies — many 
 there were who cursed her, and, alas! none loved her — she 
 was friendless, save the prince, who was far away. The tears 
 which the princess had shed on her account weighed like a 
 
THE INNER AND THE MIDDLE TEMPLE. 125 
 
 heavy burden upon her heart, burning into her very soul in 
 this hour of lonely, sad retrospection. She tried in vain to 
 excuse herself, in the fact that she had loved the prince be- 
 fore his marriage; that she had sacrificed herself to him 
 through affection, and that she was not entitled to become 
 his wife, as she was not born under the canopy of a throne. 
 
 From the depths of her conscience there again rose the 
 tearful, sad face of the princess, accusing her as an adulteress 
 — as a sinner before God and man! Terrified, she cried: " I 
 have truly loved him, and I do still love him; this is my ex- 
 cuse and my justification. She is not to be pitied who can 
 walk openly by the side of her husband, enjoying the respect 
 and sympathy of all to whom homage is paid, and who, one 
 day, will be queen ! I am the only one, l alone ! I stand in 
 the shade, despised and scorned, avoided and shunned by 
 every one i Those who recognize me, do so with a mocking 
 smile, and when I pass by they contemptuously shrug their 
 shoulders and say to one another, 'That was Enke, the mis- 
 tress of the Prince of Prussia!' All this shall be changed," 
 she cried aloud ; " I will not always be despised and degraded ! 
 I will be revenged on my crushed and scorned youth ! I will 
 have rank and name, honor and position, that I will — yes, 
 that I will, indeed !" 
 
 Wilhelmine wandered on through the silent rooms, all bril- 
 liantly illuminated, a precaution she had taken before dis- 
 missing her servants. The bright light was a consolation to 
 her, and, at least, she could not be attacked by surprise, but 
 see her enemy, and escape. "I was a fool," she murmured, 
 " to grant Cagliostro this reception to-night. I know that he 
 is a charlatan ! There are no prophets or wizards ! Yet, well 
 I remember, though a stranger to me, in Paris, how truth- 
 fully he brought before me my past life-; with what marvel- 
 lous exactness he revealed to me secrets known only to my 
 Maker and myself. Cagliostro must be a wizard, then, or a 
 prophet ; he has wonderful power over me also, and reads my 
 most secret thoughts. He will assist me to rise from my 
 
126 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 shame and degradation to an honored position. I shall be- 
 come a rich and influential woman ! I will confide in him, 
 never doubting him — for he is my master and savior ! Away 
 with fear ! He has said that the house should be guarded, 
 and it will be! Onward then, Wilhelmine, without fear!" 
 
 She hastened to the large drawing-room, in order to see the 
 effect of the numerous wax-lights in the superb chandeliers of 
 rock crystal. The great folding-doors resisted all her efforts 
 to open them. "Who is there?" cried a loud, threatening 
 voice. Trembling and with beating heart Wilhelmine leaned 
 against the door, giddy with fear, when a second demand, 
 " Who is there? The watchword! No one can pass without 
 the countersign!" roused her, and she stole back on tiptoe to 
 her room. "He has kept his word, the doors are guarded!" 
 she whispered. "I will go and await him in my sitting- 
 room." She stepped quickly forward, when suddenly she 
 thought she heard footsteps stealing behind her; turning, she 
 beheld two men wrapped in black cloaks, with black masks, 
 stealthily creeping after her. Wilhelmine shrieked with ter- 
 ror, tore open the door, rushed across the next room into her 
 own boudoir. As she entered a glance revealed to her that 
 the two masks approached nearer and nearer. She bolted the 
 door quickly, sinking to the floor with fright and exhaustion. 
 " What are they going to do? Will they force open the door 
 and murder me? How foolish, how fearfully foolish to have 
 sent away all my servants. Now I understand it: Cagliostro 
 is not only an impostor — a charlatan, but he is a thief and an 
 assassin. I have been caught in the trap set for me, like a 
 credulous fool ! He and his associates will rob me and plun- 
 der my beautiful villa, but just given to me, and, when they 
 have secured all, murder me to escape betrayal." With deep 
 contrition, weeping and trembling, Wilhelmine accused her- 
 self of her credulity and folly. For the first time in her life 
 she was dismayed and cowardly, for it was the first time that 
 she had had to tremble for her possessions. It was something 
 so new, so unaccustomed to her to possess any thing, that it 
 
THE INNER AND THE MIDDLE TEMPLE. 127 
 
 made her anxious, and she feared, as in the fairy tale, that it 
 would dissolve into nothing. By degrees her presence of mind 
 and equanimity were restored. The stillness was unbroken — 
 and no one forced the door, to murder the mistress of this 
 costly possession. Gathering courage, she rose softly and 
 stole to the window. The moon shone brightly and clearly. 
 The house stood sideways to the street, and separated from 
 it, first by thick shrubbery, and then a trellised lawn. Who- 
 ever would enter, directly turned into a path leading from 
 the street into the shrubbery. Just upon this walk, Wilhel- 
 mine perceived masked men approaching, one by one, as in a 
 procession — slowly, silently moving on, until they neared the 
 gate of the trellised square, where two tall, dark forms were 
 stationed to demand the countersign, which being given, they 
 passed over the lawn into the house. 
 
 " I will take courage ; he has told me the truth, the house 
 is well guarded," murmured Wilhelmine. "None but the 
 summoned can enter ; I belong to the number, and when it is 
 time Cagliostro will come and fetch me. Until then, let me 
 await quietly the result," said she, as she stretched herself 
 comfortably upon the sofa, laughing at her former cowardice 
 and terror. " No one can enter this room unless I open the 
 door, and fortunately there is but one exit. The wizard him- 
 self could not gain admittance unless the walls should open or 
 the bolt drive back for him. Hark ! it strikes eleven, one 
 tedious hour longer to wait. I must try to rest a little." 
 She laid her head upon the cushion, closing her eyes. The 
 calm and the quiet were refreshing after the excitement of the 
 day. Gradually her thoughts became confused — dim pictures, 
 floated past her mental vision, her breathing became shorter, 
 and she slept. The stillness was unbroken, save the clock 
 striking the quarters of every hour. Scarcely had the last 
 quarter to midnight sounded, when the window was softly 
 opened, and a dark form descended into the room. He lis- 
 tened a moment, looking at the sleeping one, who moved not ; 
 then extinguished the light, creeping toward the door. Wil- 
 
128 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 helmine slept on. Suddenly it seemed to her as if sunbeams 
 blinded her, and she started up from a profound sleep. It 
 was indeed no dream. A white form stood before her of 
 dazzling brilliancy, as if formed of sun-rays. 
 
 "Kiseand follow me!" cried a commanding voice. "The 
 Great Kophta commands you. Mask yourself, and, as your 
 life is dear to you, do not raise it for one instant!" Wilhel- 
 mine took the mask, upon which flickered a little blue flame, 
 and held it close to her face. " Pray in spirit, then follow 
 me." Wilhelmine followed without opposition the bright 
 form which moved before her through the dark rooms. She 
 felt as if under the influence of a charm; her heart beat 
 violently, her feet trembled, but still she felt no more waver- 
 ing or fear ; a joyous confidence filled her whole being. With 
 her eyes bent upon the moving form of light, she went onward 
 in the obscurity, and entered the great drawing-room, where 
 profound darkness and silence reigned. A slight murmur, 
 as of those in prayer, fell on her ear, and it seemed as if 
 numberless black shadows were moving about. " Kneel and 
 pray," whispered a voice near her. Her conductor had dis- 
 appeared, and the gloom of night surrounded her. Wilhel- 
 mine knelt as she was bidden, but she could not pray; 
 breathless expectation and eager curiosity banished all de- 
 votion and composure. Occasionally was heard, amid the 
 silence and darkness, a deep sigh, a suppressed groan, or a 
 shriek, which died away in the murmuring of prayer. Sud- 
 denly a strange music broke the stillness — sharp, piercing 
 tones, resonant as bells, and increasing in power, sometimes 
 as rich and full as the peals of an organ, then gentle and soft 
 as the murmuring wind, or a sorrow-laden sigh. Then, 
 human voices joined the music, swelling it to a wonderful and 
 harmonious choir — to an inspired song of aspiration, of fer- 
 vent expectation, and imploring the coming of him who would 
 bring glory and peace, filling the hearts of believers with god- 
 liness. The chorus of the Invisibles had not ceased, when a 
 strange blue light began to glimmer at the farther end of the 
 
THE INNER AND THE MIDDLE TEMPLE. 129 
 
 room ; then it shot like a flash through the dark space. As 
 their dazzled eyes were again raised, they saw in a kind of 
 halo, in the midst of golden clouds, a tall, dazzling figure, in 
 a long, flowing robe, sparkling with silver. The lovely bust, 
 the beautiful arms and shoulders, were covered with a trans- 
 parent golden tissue, over which fell the long, curly hair to 
 the waist. A glittering band, sparkling like stars, was wound 
 through the hair, which surrounded a feminine face of sur- 
 passing beauty. Perpetual youth glowed upon her full, rosy 
 cheeks; bright intelligence beamed from the clear, lofty 
 brow ; peace, joy, and happiness, were revealed in the smile 
 of the red lips; love and passion flashed from the large, bril- 
 liant eyes. The choir of the Invisibles now sang in jubilant 
 tones : " The eternal Virgin, the everlasting, holy, and pure 
 being, greets the erring, blesses those that seek, causing them 
 to find, and partake with joy." 
 
 The heavenly woman raised her lovely arms, extending 
 them as if for a tender embrace. A captivating smile lighted 
 np her features ; a fiery glance from her beautiful eyes seemed 
 to greet every one, separately, to announce to them joy and 
 hope. While they regarded her entranced with delight, the 
 golden cloud grew denser, and covered the virgin with her 
 luminous veil. It then gradually disappeared, with the golden 
 splendor. The chorus of the Invisibles ceased, and the music 
 died away in gentle murmurs. Upon the spot where the 
 beaming apparition was visible, there now stood a tall priest, 
 in a long, flowing black robe ; a pale-blue light surrounded 
 him, and rendered the dark outline distinctly visible by the 
 clear background. Snow-white hair and a black mask made 
 him unrecognizable to every one. 
 
 Extending his arms, as if blessing them, the masked one 
 cried : " My beloved, the unknown fathers of our Holy Order 
 of Rosicrucians send me to you, and command me to salute 
 you with the greeting of life. I am to announce to you that 
 the time of revelation approaches, and that the sublime mys- 
 teries of earth and Nature will soon be revealed to you. As 
 
130 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 the rose is unfolded in her glowing red, which has so long 
 slept in her lap of green leaves, you represent the green leaves, 
 and Nature is the rose. She will disclose herself to you with 
 all her secrets. In her calyx you will find the elixir of life 
 and the secret of gold, if you walk in the path of duty ; if you 
 exercise unconditional obedience to the Invisible Fathers ; if 
 you submit yourselves in blind confidence to their wisdom; 
 if you swear to abstain from every self-inquiry, and to dis- 
 trust your own understanding." * 
 
 "We swear it!" cried solemn voices on all sides. 
 
 " Swear, blindly, silent obedience to all that the Invisible 
 Fathers shall announce to you through their directors, or 
 shall order you under the holy sign of the Eosicrucians by 
 word or writing." 
 
 "We swear it!" again resounded in solemn chorus. 
 
 "Shame, disgrace, perdition, and destruction, be your 
 curse," thundered the priest, "if you deviate in thought even 
 from your oath ; if you seek to ponder and reflect ; if you 
 measure by your own limited reason the dispositions and oper- 
 ations of the sublime fathers, to whom Nature has revealed 
 herself, and to whom all the secrets of heaven and earth are 
 disclosed. Eternal destruction, and all the tortures of hell 
 and purgatory, be the portion of the doubting! Damned 
 and proscribed be the traitor to the holy order ! Listen, ye 
 spirits of the deep, and ye spirits of darkness, withdraw from 
 here in terror, ere the anger of the Invisible Fathers fall upon 
 you like destroying lightning! Open, ye doors, that the 
 wicked may flee, and only the good remain!" 
 
 With a wave of the hand the great folding-doors now 
 opened, and a flood of light from the adjoining apartment re- 
 vealed the drawing-room to be filled with the dark forms of 
 men enveloped in black cloaks, hoods drawn over the heads, 
 and black masks covering the faces — all kneeling close to- 
 gether and exactly resembling one another. No one moved, 
 
 * So run the very words in the laws of the Rosicrucians.— See " New General Ger- 
 man Library," vol. lvi., p. 10. 
 
I 
 
 THE INNER AND THE MIDDLE TEMPLE. 131 
 
 no one withdrew at the exhortation of the priest. The doors 
 closed again, darkness reigning. The priest was no longer 
 visible, though continuing to speak: "Only the good and 
 obedient are now assembled here, and to them I announce 
 that life is to us, and death awaits beyond the door to seize 
 the traitor who would disclose the holy secrets of the order. 
 Be faithful, my brothers, and never forget that there is no 
 place on the earth where the traitor is secure from the aveng- 
 ing sword of the Invisible Fathers. None but the good and 
 obedient being here assembled, I now announce to you that 
 the time of revelation approaches, and that it will come when 
 you are all zealously endeavoring to extend the holy order, 
 and augment the number of brothers. For the extension of 
 the order is nothing less than universal happiness. It ema- 
 nates alone from the Invisible Fathers, who link heaven to 
 earth, and who will open again the lost way to Paradise. 
 The supreme chiefs of our holy order are the rulers of all 
 Nature, reposing in God the Father.* They are the favorites 
 of God, whom the Trinity thinks worthy of his highest con- 
 fidence and revelation. If you will take part in the revela- 
 tions of God, and witness the disclosing of the hidden treas- 
 ures of Nature, swear that you will be obedient to the holy 
 order, and that you will strive to gain new members." 
 
 "We swear it," resounded in an inspired chorus through 
 the room. " We swear unconditional obedience to the Invis- 
 ible Fathers. We swear to strive with all our means for the 
 extension of the holy order." 
 
 "Unbelief, free-thinking, and self-knowledge, are of the 
 the devil, who steals abroad, to turn men from God. The 
 pride of reason seeks to misguide men, and lead them away 
 from God and the secrets of Nature. The devil has chosen 
 his disciples, who teach sinful knowledge and arrogant free- 
 thinking, and who are united in Berlin in the Order of the 
 Illuminati. The Invisible Fathers command you to fight this 
 
 * The wording of the laws of the Order of the Rosicrucians.— See "New General 
 German Library,' ' vol. lvi., p. 10. 
 
132 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 shameful order in word, deed, and writing. If any of you 
 are acquainted with one of the members, you shall regard him 
 as your most deadly enemy, and shall hate and pursue 
 him as you hate sin and as you pursue crime. You 
 shall flee his intercourse as you would that of the devil, 
 otherwise you will be damned, and the Invisible Fathers never 
 will forgive you, and the secrets of Nature will be withheld 
 from you. Swear therefore hate, persecution, and eternal 
 enmity, to the Order of the Illuminati. This I command 
 you in the name of the Invisible Fathers." 
 
 "We swear it! We swear hate, persecution, and eternal 
 enmity, to the Order of the Illuminati!" 
 
 " Every one who belongs to the order is damned and cursed ; 
 and if it were your brother or your father, so shall you curse 
 and damn him!" 
 
 "We swear it!" 
 
 " Then I bring you the blessing of the Invisible rulers and 
 fathers, who announce to you, through me, that every lost 
 one which you gain for the Order of the Eosicrucians, and 
 consequently lead back to God and Nature, is a step toward 
 entering the holy sanctuary of revelation, where the elixir of 
 life and the tincture of gold awaits you. Every cursed mem- 
 ber of the Illuminati becomes one of the blessed when you 
 lead him from the path of vice in penitence and contrition, 
 and gain him to the Order of the Eosicrucians ; and he who 
 can prove that he has gained twelve new members for our holy 
 order mounts a round higher in the ladder of knowledge, and 
 rises to a new degree. At the sixth grade he passes from the 
 Inner to the Middle Temple, where all the secrets of the uni- 
 verse and of Nature are disclosed. Be mindful of this, and 
 recruit. Until we meet again, let the watchword be, ' Curses 
 and persecution for the devil's offspring, the Illuminati!' " 
 
 "Curses and persecution for the devil's offspring, the 
 Illuminati, we swear!" 
 
 " Now depart ! Pay your tribute at the door, which yon 
 owe, and receive in return the new sign of the order, which 
 
THE INNER AND THE MIDDLE TEMPLE. 133 
 
 will serve to make the brothers known to each other. Only 
 the directors and the members of the sixth grade shall knock 
 again at this door after paying tribute, and, receiving the 
 new word of life, the guard will let them enter. Depart ! I 
 dismiss you in the name of the Holy Father and the Trinity!" 
 
 " Take this cloak, and cover yourself, that no one can rec- 
 ognize you," whispered a person near Wilhelmine, and threw 
 a soft covering over her. "Will you now depart, or seek 
 further in the way of knowledge?" 
 
 "I will seek further," answered Wilhelmine, firmly. 
 
 " You wish to enter the sixth grade, and learn the secrete 
 of Nature?" 
 
 "I do!" 
 
 " Then I will give you the watchword of the order. But 
 woe unto you if you reveal it ! Swear that you will never be- 
 tray it!" 
 
 "I swear it!" 
 I "Then, listen!" 
 
 Wilhelmine felt a hot breath upon her cheek, and a voice 
 whispered in her ear the significant words : " Now depart ; 
 pay your tribute, you cannot tarry here. Go, and return 
 with the chosen!" 
 
 A hand seized her arm and conducted her to the door. 
 Almost blinded by the bright light, she entered the adjoining 
 apartment, where it seemed as if she saw through a veil 
 muffled figures go forward to the centre, and deposit money 
 in a marble basin which stood upon a kind of altar ; naphtha 
 burned in silver basins upon each end of it, and a muffled 
 figure stood near. 
 
 Wilhelmine advanced to the altar, and with quick decision 
 drew a diamond ring from her finger, and begged permission 
 to deposit it instead of money. 
 
 The muffled figure bowed, and handed to her the new 
 watchword — a picture of a Madonna, with the sign of the 
 Rosicrucians underneath, *>}*. Then she returned, and awaited 
 at the door, with a little gathering, which must consequently 
 
134 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 belong to the sixth grade. Gradually the others had with- 
 drawn ; the naphtha-flames upon the altar were extinguished, 
 and the wax-lights of the centre lustres had grown dim, and 
 gradually extinguished themselves. Soon the doors were 
 opened, and a bright light, as of the sun's rays, filled the hall. 
 Three blasts of trumpets sounded, and a choir of immortal 
 voices sang, "Enter, ye blessed ones! Enter, ye elect!" 
 
 They entered, whispering the sign to the guards, who stood 
 with drawn swords, and passed on to the throne upon which 
 stood a couch, surrounded with blooming flowers and covered 
 with a cloud of silvery gauze. They soon discovered a secret 
 something was hidden under the cloud, though they knew not 
 whether it were child, woman, or man. They knelt upon the 
 lower step of the throne, with folded hands and bowed heads, 
 praying in a low voice. A solemn stillness reigned, the pray- 
 ers died away on the lips, and the hearts scarcely beat for 
 anxiety and expectation. Suddenly a voice, which seemed to 
 come from the silver cloud, so distant and lofty, and rolling 
 like majestic thunder, cried, "He comes, the chosen one! 
 The Great Kophta comes!" 
 
 The folding-doors flew open, and the Great Kophta entered. 
 Wilhelmine recognized in the majestic figure, enveloped in a 
 flowing, silver-embroidered satin robe, with a band of bril- 
 liants around his brow, the handsome face of Oagliostro, 
 beaming as if in an ecstasy. He saluted the brothers with a 
 gentle voice, and bade them approach and touch his hand. 
 As Wilhelmine did so, a thrill ran through her whole being, 
 and she sank overpowered at his feet. He bowed and breathed 
 upon her. " You are chosen, ye heavenly brothers," he said, 
 in a sweet, melodious voice ; " the secrets of heaven and earth 
 are disclosed to you. I receive you in the Holy Order of the 
 Favorites of God, which I founded with Enoch and Eliaa 
 when we dwelt in the promised land. From them I received 
 the Word of Life, and they sent me to the ancient sages of 
 Egypt, who revealed to me in the pyramids the secret sciences 
 which subject the earth and all her treasures to our command. 
 
THE INNER AND THE MIDDLE TEMPLE. 135 
 
 He who devotes himself to me with fidelity will receive eternal 
 life and the secret of immortality." 
 
 "We believe in thee, blessed one of God," murmured the 
 kneeling ones; "we know that we receive life and salvation 
 from thee. Bend to us, and give us of the breath of immor- 
 tality!" 
 
 He bowed and breathed upon them, and they broke forth 
 in words of thankfulness and delight. 
 
 Only Wilhelmine kept silent; she only failed to feel the 
 magical influence, and he bowed again to her, fixing his 
 great fiery eyes upon her. " Thou art called, thou art 
 chosen," he said. "Mount to the tabernacle, and lift the 
 veil." 
 
 She did as commanded, and beheld the figure of a wonder- 
 ful woman stretched upon the couch as in deep sleep, clothed 
 in transparent robes. " Lay your hand upon her brow, and 
 direct in your thoughts a question to the prophetess of the 
 order, and she will answer you !" Upon the lofty, white brow 
 of the sleeping one, she laid her hand ; immediately a smile 
 flitted over her beautiful face, and she nodded. " Yes," said 
 she, "you must believe. You dare not doubt. He is the 
 elect, the holy Magus!" Wilhelmine trembled, for the an- 
 swer was suited to the question. " Demand a second question 
 of the prophetess," commanded Cagliostro. Again she laid 
 her hand upon the brow of the sleeping one, and again she 
 smiled and nodded with her beautiful head. " Fear not," sha 
 replied ; " he will always love you, and will never reject you, 
 only you must not lead him astray from the right course — but 
 guide him t6 the temple of faith and knowledge. When you 
 cease to do it, you are lost. Shame upon earth and damnation 
 will be your portion. " The answer was exact — for Wilhelmine 
 had prayed to know if the prince would always love and never 
 reject her. "Still a third question," cried Cagliostro. In 
 silence Wilhelmine asked, and the prophetess answered aloud : 
 " You will be countess, you will become a princess, you will 
 possess millions, you will have the whole world at your feet, 
 
136 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 if yon call to your aid the Invisible Fathers, and implore the 
 power and miraculous blessing of the Great Kophta." Wil- 
 helmine, deeply moved, sank overpowered upon her knees, 
 and cried aloud : " I call upon the Invisible Fathers for aid 
 and assistance; I implore the power and miraculous blessing 
 of the Great Kophta." Suddenly, amid the rolling of thun- 
 der and intense darkness, Wilhelmine felt herself lifted up — 
 borne away, as loud prayers were uttered around her. Then 
 she felt herself lowered again and with the freedom of mo- 
 tion. " Fly ! fly from the revenge of the immortals, if you 
 still doubt, still mistrust!" cried a fearful voice above her. 
 "Behold how the immortals revenge themselves." Imme- 
 diately a light began to dawn before her, a form rose from the 
 darkness like her own. She beheld herself kneeling, implor- 
 ing, her face deluged with tears, and before her a tall, erect, 
 muffled figure, with a glittering sword in his uplifted arm, 
 which sank gradually lower and lower until it pierced her 
 bosom and the blood gushed forth. Wilhelmine shrieked and 
 fainted. She witnessed no more miracles, heard no more 
 prophecies and revelations which the magi made to the elect. 
 She beheld not the appearance of the blessed spirits, which 
 at the importunity of the brothers flitted through the apart- 
 ment. She heard not Cagliostro take leave of Baron von 
 Bischofswerder, when all had withdrawn, saying, " I have now 
 exalted you to be chief director of the holy order. You will 
 at once receive orders from the Invisible Fathers, announced 
 to you in writing, and you will follow them faithfully." 
 
 " I will follow them faithfully," humbly answered Bischofs- 
 werder. 
 
 " You will be rewarded by the knowledge of life and of 
 money; you shall discover the philosopher's stone, and the 
 secret of gold shall be revealed to you, when you perform what 
 the Invisible Fathers demand." 
 
 "I will do every thing," cried Bischofswerder, fervently; 
 " only make known to me their commands." 
 
 " They desire, at the present, that you seek to be the con- 
 
THE JESUIT GENERAL. 137 
 
 fidant of the Prince of Prussia. Gain his affection, then gov- 
 ern him, making yourself indispensable to him. Surround 
 him with servants and confidants that you can rely upon. 
 Inspire him with devotion to the holy order. Become, now, 
 the friend of the prince, that you may, one day, rule the 
 king. You are the chief of the order in Prussia; the more 
 members you gain the more secrets will be revealed to you. 
 The holy fathers send me afar, but I shall return : if you have 
 been active and faithful, I will make known to you a great 
 secret, and bring you the elixir of life." 
 
 "When will you return, master?" asked Bischofswerder, 
 enthusiastically. 
 
 Cagliostro smiled. "Before the crown prince of Prussia 
 becomes king. Ask no further. Be faithful 1" 
 
 CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 THE JESUIT GENERAL. 
 
 No one remained in the drawing-room but Cagliostro and 
 the beautiful woman who still lay quietly on the couch, upon 
 the throne. Cagliostro approached her, and, raising the veil, 
 regarded her a moment, with an expression of the most pas- 
 sionate tenderness: "We are alone, Lorenza," said he. She 
 opened her great eyes, and looked around the dimly-lighted 
 room ; then, fixing them upon Cagliostro, who stood before 
 her in his brilliant costume of magician, she burst into a 
 merry laugh, so loud and so irresistible, that Cagliostro was 
 seized involuntarily, and joined her. 
 
 " Oh ! was it not heavenly, was it not a glorious comedy, 
 and did I not play divinely, Joseph? Was I not bewitching 
 as the goddess of Nature?" 
 
 " You looked truly like a goddess, Lorenza, and there is 
 nothing more beautiful than you, in heaven or upon earth. 
 10 
 
138 OLD FEITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 But come, my enchantress, it is time to break up, as we are 
 to set off early to-morrow morning." 
 
 "Have we now much money? Was the tribute richly 
 paid?" 
 
 " Yes, we have a hundred louis d'ors and a diamond ring 
 from the mistress of this house." 
 
 " Give it to me," cried Lorenza. 
 
 " Not the ring, Lorenza, but the diamond, so soon as I have 
 a false stone set in the ring — which I must keep as a ring in 
 the chain which will bind this woman to our cause." 
 
 "Was I not astonishingly like her? Was it not almost 
 unmistakable?" 
 
 " Yes, wonderfully deceptive. I shuddered myself as I saw 
 the dagger pointed at your bosom. " 
 
 "And the blood, how it gushed forth, Joseph!" Lorenza 
 burst into a merry laugh again, and Cagliostro joined her, but 
 suddenly stopped, and, listening, turned toward the door, 
 which he had closed after Bischofswerder departed. It 
 seemed as if he heard a noise — a peculiar knocking. Four 
 times it was repeated, and Cagliostro waved his hand to Lo- 
 renza not to speak. Again were heard the four peculiar 
 rhythmical sounds. " Be quiet, for Heaven's sake be quiet, 
 Lorenza ! Let me cover you with the veil ; it is a messenger 
 from the Invisibles." Cagliostro flew to the door, unbolted 
 it, and stood humbly near the entrance. A masked figure* 
 enveloped in a cloak, opened it, and, entered, rebolting it. 
 
 Slowly turning toward Cagliostro, he harshly demanded, 
 "Whose servant are you?" 
 
 "The servant of the Invisible Eulers and Fathers," he 
 humbly answered. 
 
 " Who are the Invisible Fathers?" 
 
 " The four ambassadors of the great general of the exiles. " 
 
 " Call him by that name which he bore before a heretic pop© 
 in Rome, a weak empress, a free-thinking emperor in Ger- 
 many, a lost-in-sin French emperor, and a heretic Spanish 
 minister, condemned him to banishment and destruction. " 
 
THE JESUIT GENERAL. 139 
 
 " General of the Jesuits," he answered respectfully, bowing 
 lower. 
 
 " Do you know the sign by which he may be recognized?" 
 
 " Yes, by a ring with the likeness of the founder of the 
 order, the holy Ignatius Loyola." 
 
 " Then look, and recognize me," cried the mask, extending 
 his hand to Cagliostro. 
 
 "The General," he murmured, frightened, gazing at the 
 ring upon the small, white hand of the other. " The holy 
 founder of the order himself!" He seized his hand and 
 pressed it to his lips, sinking upon his knees. The mask re- 
 mained standing before the magician, as lowly as he might 
 bow himself, who was still arrayed in his brilliant costume 
 with the band upon his brow sparkling like diamonds. 
 
 With a cold, reserved manner he answered, " I am he, and 
 am come here to give you my commands by word of mouth." 
 
 " Command me ; I am thy humble servant, and but a weak 
 tool in thy hands." 
 
 " It is my will that you should become a powerful tool in 
 my hands. Rise, for I will speak to the man who must stand 
 erect in the storm. Rise!" The proud commander was now 
 an humble, obedient servant. He rose slowly, standing with 
 bowed head. 
 
 " When and where did we last meet?" demanded the mask. 
 
 "In 1773, at Rome." 
 
 " In the year of curse and blasphemy," said the mask, in a 
 harsh voice. " The year in which the infamous Pope Clem- 
 ent XVI. condemned the holy order, and hurled his famous 
 bull, Dominus redemptor noster. The holy order, condemned 
 and disbanded by his infamous mouth, were changed into 
 holy martyrs, without country, without possessions or rights, 
 as persecuted fugitives, wandering around the world, to the 
 wicked a scorn, to the pious a lamentable example of virtue 
 and constancy. Exiled and persecuted, you fled to a house 
 of one of our order, and there we for the first time met. The 
 daughter of this man was your beloved. Tell me why did you 
 
UO OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 conceal yourself after flying from Palermo? I will see if the 
 elevated one ungratefully forgets the days of his degradation." 
 
 " They accused me in Palermo of falsifying documents by 
 which rightful owners were deprived of their lawful posses- 
 sions. They threw me into subterranean dungeons, and I was 
 near dying, when the Invisible Protectors rescued me." 
 
 "Was the accusation well founded? Had you committed 
 the crime you were accused of?" 
 
 " Yes," answered Cagliostro, in a low voice, " I was guilty." 
 
 "For whom, by whose authority?" 
 
 "For the pious fathers, who commanded me, and whose 
 pretensions to the possessions of the Due Costa Rica were 
 clearly proved by those documents." 
 
 "You then learned the power and the gratitude of oui 
 order. From underground prisons they freed you, and pro- 
 cured a way of escape to Rome, to find a safe asylum in the 
 house of a believer. But just at that time condemnation 
 burst upon us, and from a powerful order we were changed 
 into a persecuted one. The forger Joseph Balsamo sought 
 the brazier Feliciano, who gave him money, letters of recom- 
 mendation, and instructed him how to serve the order, and 
 procure an agreeable life for himself. Is it not so?" 
 
 "It is so," answered Cagliostro, softly. "It was the order 
 of the General which united you in marriage to your beloved 
 Lorenza Feliciana, who initiated you in the secret sciences 
 and the secrets of Nature, that you might employ them for 
 the well-being of humanity." 
 
 "It is so, master," 
 
 " You implored also, as you were about to separate, to see 
 the face of your benefactor, to engrave it upon your heart. 
 Would you now be able to recognize it?" 
 
 "I could in an instant, among thousands." 
 
 The General slowly raised the mask ; a pale, emaciated face 
 was visible, with great black eyes in sunken sockets, thin 
 bloodless lips, and a high, bony brow. " Do you recognize 
 me?" 
 
THE JESUIT GENERAL. 141 
 
 " No !" sadly answered Cagliostro, " it is not the same face." 
 
 "You see, my son, man changes, but knowledge not. I 
 am another, and yet the same, for the outward human form 
 is only the vessel of the eternal band into which everlasting 
 truth and the holy doctrines are poured. If the vessel breaks, 
 it is replaced by another, and an inexhaustible spring. 
 Thought and holy knowledge flow into the renewed vessel. I 
 am a new vessel, but the same spirit which formerly spoke to 
 you. I know your past life, and for what purpose you are in 
 the world. As the General then spoke to you, so speak I 
 now. The unholy have put the holy under a ban— they have 
 persecuted and condemned us. The Holy Order of the 
 Fathers of Jesus is lifeless before the world, but not before 
 God. Jesuits do not die, for they bear eternal life in them, 
 and there will a day come when they will burst forth from 
 darkness into light. Go, my son, and help prepare the day, 
 help smooth the way, that we may walk therein. Have you 
 obeyed?" 
 
 " I have consecrated my whole life to it, your eminence. I 
 have wandered around the world, and everywhere striven to 
 disseminate the doctrine of the Invisible Fathers, and win 
 disciples and adherents to the order. The Brothers of the 
 Egyptian Masons, the Brothers of the Rosicrucians, are the 
 disciples which I have won, and you know well there are 
 many mighty and illustrious men among them." 
 
 " I know it, and I am satisfied you are an active and useful 
 tool. This I came to tell you, that I might stimulate and 
 advise you. Great deeds you shall perform, great achieve- 
 ments the holy Ignatius Loyola announces by my mouth. 
 The world lies in sin, and the devil strides victorious over it, 
 since the holy order has been proscribed and persecuted by 
 the wicked. The devil is arrogant progress and boasting 
 reason. They who listen to him think themselves wise when 
 they are fools, and speak of their enlightenment while they 
 still wander in the dark. To combat this reason, to oppose 
 this intelligence, is the task of our order, which will never 
 
14:2 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 die. For God sent it forth to the world to fight the devil of 
 progress, who is the ruler of darkness. I have observed you, 
 I have followed you, and I am satisfied. But I await still 
 greater things from you." 
 
 "What shall it be? Speak, master; command, and I 
 obey!" 
 
 " You shall strive throughout Europe for the restitution of 
 the holy order. You shall subject to it all minds; make the 
 rich, the powerful, the eminent and great, serviceable to it. 
 Into the Orders of the Eosicrucians and Egyptian Masons you 
 shall gather all the stray and isolated sheep into a flock, to 
 await with longing the coming of the shepherd, and prepare 
 a place for him. To the holy Church you shall consecrate the 
 band of brothers, the only blessed Church, which is the lofty 
 abode of the father of our order. To us belongs the world; 
 you shall assist to reconquer it. Unbelievers shall be fought 
 with every weapon. Every deception, slander, persecution, 
 and murder, are holy if used for the benefit of the holy order. 
 You shall shrink from nothing which is useful and beneficial 
 for the sublime goal. The murder of a prince is no sin, but 
 a just punishment, when it is necessary to remove a mighty 
 enemy. If you create revolutions, cause nations to tear each 
 other to pieces in grim civil war, these revolutions will be 
 sanctified, the civil wars blessed, if they serve to strengthen 
 the power of our order, and gain victory at last against the 
 opponents. Only through our order can happiness reenter 
 the world, and mankind be rescued. If the Holy Fathers do 
 not sit in the council of princes, if they are not the conscience 
 of the powerful, and steer the machine of state, the world 
 goes to destruction, and mankind is lost. You shall help, 
 my son, to turn aside the evil, and prepare happiness for 
 earth. You have already done much, but much more is re- 
 quired. Go and work miracles; belief in them sanctifies the 
 mind. Our fathers will sustain you everywhere, for you well 
 know they are always present, though it is imagined they are 
 not. The infamous Ganganelli has stripped them of their 
 
THE JESUIT GENEKAL. 143 
 
 uniform, but not annihilated them, as we are, and ever shall 
 be. I have sent out nine thousand brothers in Europe for the 
 benefit of the order, and you will recognize them by the 
 watchword. They will serve you as you will serve them. If 
 danger menaces you, our brothel's will know it, and rescue 
 you. You will be unassailable, so long as you work for the 
 order, and win disciples for it. Prussia is our important 
 station, as you rightly judged, and I extol you for your fore- 
 sight. You prepare the future, for here it will be ! When 
 the royal mocker of religion dies, then comes a new kingdom, 
 and the Eosi crucians will rise to power. Vices as well as 
 virtues must serve us ; therefore, Bischofswerder and Wilhel- 
 mine Enke are useful means for holy purposes. That you 
 have recognized it I praise you. Continue, my son, as you 
 have begun, and you shall become powerful upon the earth. 
 Not a hair of your head shall be touched so long as you are 
 faithful to the Invisible Fathers. But so soon as you turn 
 traitor to the holy cause you are lost, and our anger will crush 
 you!" 
 
 "Never will I turn traitor," cried Cagliostro, holding up 
 his hands as if taking an oath. 
 
 " I hope not. Our enemies shall be your enemies, and our 
 friends your friends. If one of the brothers orders you in my 
 name, 'Kill this man or that woman,' so kill them! Swear 
 it!" 
 
 Shuddering, Cagliostro repeated, "I swear it!" 
 
 "As soon as one of the brothers orders you, in my name, 
 * Rescue this man or that woman, ' so do every thing ; even 
 risk and sacrifice your life to rescue him." 
 
 "I swear it." 
 
 " You stand in the holy temple of the order, but also under 
 its avenging sword. Be mindful of it in all your acts. The 
 world is open to you, and our influence will be with you every- 
 where. You shall win the hearts of the great and the mighty 
 to us, and place the Order of the Rosicrucians on the steps of 
 the throne. The Great Kophta shall lead believers to us." 
 
144 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 " The Great Kophta will perform all that you command, as 
 he is only the humble servant of his general," said Oagliostro, 
 kissing the hand extended to him. 
 
 " Do not kiss the hand, it is only that of an inferior mortal : 
 kiss the ring, for it is the imperishable sign of our immortal 
 saint." 
 
 " I kiss the ring of the immortal Ignatius Loyola, and swear 
 eternal fidelity, constant obedience, and firm love, until 
 de?.th." 
 
 " Kise ! for the time has come for us to separate. I have 
 provided for the journeys the necessary means. Here are let- 
 ters of recommendation to Warsaw and Mittau, others to 
 Paris and London ; but, the most important of all, letters of 
 credit upon well-known bankers to the value of five hundred 
 thousand dollars — all valid, though delivered years hence." 
 
 "A half million!" cried Oagliostro, almost terrified. 
 
 "Does a half million astonish you?" repeated the General, 
 and his gray, fieshless face was distorted into a smile. " The 
 Great Kophta must travel and live like a prince, that he may 
 dazzle the eyes of the brothers, and subjugate the minds of 
 the powerful. We give you the money, but remember you 
 are always under the watchful eye of the order, and there is 
 no spot on earth where you can hide yourself from our ven- 
 geance with the trust confided in you. You shall spend it to 
 buy souls and win thrones, for hearts and consciences are sold ; 
 money will buy every thing. Take your letters of credit ; you 
 shall live as a great lord, and the Great Kophta shall be equal 
 with princes." 
 
 He handed Oagliostro five sealed betters, saying : " They 
 are made out for five years ; only one for each year, as the 
 number indicates. Number one is for this year, and number 
 five is only valid at the expiration of five years. The order is 
 mindful of your security, and thus five years of your life are 
 freed from earthly care. You shall work in spirit, and you 
 shall enchant the world, that it may be saved through the 
 only saving Church, and the Holy Order." 
 
THE JESUIT GENERAL. 145 
 
 He bowed a farewell, making the sign of the cross upon 
 Cagliostro, and bent his steps to the throne, raising the veil 
 which enveloped Lorenza. She looked up to him with glow- 
 ing cheeks and sparkling eyes, smiling. By this she would 
 express her thanks for the princely gift to her husband, and 
 swear to the General her delight, her fidelity, and love. He 
 regarded her as coldly and calmly as a physician :. patient. 
 
 " Yes, holy father, I have heard all," she : aid, with a sweet, 
 flute-like voice. "My heart is filled with gratitude and 
 emotion." 
 
 " Prove it by assisting your husband to attain the goal for 
 which we send him forth. I have already said that vice must 
 serve virtue, Lorenza. Beauty is a power, and if it serves 
 holy purposes, so is it sanctified. Employ your beauty to win 
 adherents to the order, and extend the power of the Rosicru- 
 cians in every land, and among all nations." 
 
 " I swear that this shall be my holiest endeavor," cried Lo- 
 renza, rising. 
 
 The General pressed her back upon the pillow, saying: 
 "Remain, for there is no one here for you to enchant. I 
 bring you pardon for your sins, and an indulgence for every 
 sin which you will commit, if you swear to serve faithfully 
 the holy Church and the pious fathers of Jesus." 
 
 " I swear," solemnly cried Lorenza. 
 
 " Here is the letter of indulgence from Pius VI. himself, 
 made out in your name for you. Take it, and perform your 
 duty." He laid down the parchment provided with the papal 
 seal upon her shoulder, and drawing the veil over her made 
 the sign of the cross, saying, " I bless you, and give you ab- 
 solution for your sins." 
 
 "Bless me also, lord and master," cried Cagliostro, kneel- 
 ing upon the lowest step to the throne. 
 
 " I bless you in the name of Loyola. Remain upon your 
 knees, and follow me not." He extended his hands over him, 
 and blessed him, then slowly withdrew. 
 
 The first beams of the morning sun shone through the 
 
146 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 great window-panes, lighting up with its golden rays Cagli- 
 ostro's kneeling form. He remained with his head bowed 
 until the General had passed out. " He is gone ; Heaven be 
 praised, he is gone!" 
 
 "Yes, he is gone," repeated Lorenza, springing from the 
 couch. " Is it true, has he given you half a million?" 
 
 Cagliostro held up with triumphant air the letters. 
 "See, these addresses are upon the first banking-houses in 
 Kome, Paris, London, and Berlin!" 
 
 "Do you believe that they are genuine?" 
 
 "I am convinced of it." 
 
 " Then we have attained our aim ; we are rich and power- 
 ful." 
 
 "No," answered Cagliostro, mournfully, "we are poorer 
 than ever. This money makes us slaves, makes us dependent 
 tools. Did you not hear him say, * You are admitted into the 
 Temple, but the avenging sword of the order everywhere 
 hangs over you. ' " 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A PENSIONED GENERAL. 
 
 " Wife," cried the General von Werrig, limping around the 
 room, leaning upon his crutch, " here is the answer from our 
 most gracious lord and king. The courier arrived to-day 
 from the war department, and sent it to me by an express." 
 
 "What is the king's answer?" asked the general's wife, a 
 pale, gaunt woman, with a pock-marked face, harsh, severe 
 features, dull gray eyes, which never beamed with emotion, 
 and thin, bloodless lips, upon which a smile never played. 
 " What is the king's answer?" she repeated, in a rough voice, 
 as her husband, puffing and blowing from the effort of walk- 
 ing, sank down upon a chair, and dried his fat, ruby face 
 with a red cotton pocket-handkercliief. 
 
 " I have not read it," panted the old man. " I thought I 
 
A PENSIONED GENERAL. 147 
 
 would leave the honor to you, as you, my very learned wife, 
 wrote the letter to his majesty." 
 
 His wife was not in the least astonished at this thoughtful 
 conduct of her husband. She impetuously seized the sealed 
 document, and, retiring to the window-niche, slowly unfolded 
 it, whilst the old general fixed his little gray eyes upon her 
 emotionless face. His own was bloated and red, expressing 
 the greatest anxiety and expectation. Perfect stillness reigned 
 for some minutes, only the regular strokes of the pendulum 
 were heard from the clock on the wall ; and, as the hands 
 pointed to the expiration of the hour, a cuckoo sprang out of 
 the tree painted over the dial, and eleven times her hoarse, 
 croaking voice was heard. 
 
 " It gets every day more out of tune," growled the general, 
 as he looked up to the old, yellow dial, and ran his eye over 
 the cords which supported the weights. Then glancing 
 around the room, he saw everywhere age, decay, and in- 
 digence. There was an old divan, with a patched, faded 
 covering of silk, and a grandfather's arm-chair near it, the 
 cushion of which the general knew, by the long years of ex- 
 perience, to be hard as a stone. A round table stood near the 
 divan, covered with a shabby woollen cover, to hide the much- 
 thumbed, dull polish. A few cane-chairs against the wall, an 
 old black-oak wardrobe near the door, and the sewing-table of 
 Madame von "Werrig in the window-niche, completed the 
 furniture of the room. At the window hung faded woollen 
 curtains, and on the green painted walls some pictures and 
 portraits, conspicuous among them a beautiful portrait of the 
 king, painted on copper, which represented Frederick in his 
 youthful beauty. It was a morose, sullen-looking room, ar- 
 ranged most certainly by its feminine occupant, and harmo- 
 nized exactly with her fretful face and angular figure, void of 
 charms. At last the general broke the silence with submissive 
 voice: " I pray you, Clotilda, tell me what the king wrote." 
 
 She folded the paper, joy beaming in her eyes. " Granted ! 
 every thing granted!" 
 
148 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 The general jumped up to embrace his wife with youthful 
 activity, in spite of the gout. "You are a capital wife," he 
 cried, at the same time giving her a loud, smacking kiss upon 
 her cold, gray cheek. " It was the brightest, cleverest act of 
 my life marrying you, Clotilda." 
 
 "J might well say the reverse, Emerentius," she replied, 
 complainingly. " It surely was not sensible for me, a young 
 lady from such a genteel family, and so spoiled, to marry an 
 officer whom the king ennobled upon the battle-field, and who 
 possessed nothing but his captain's pay — a fickle man, and a 
 gambler, too." 
 
 "Yes, Clotilda, love usurped reason," soothingly replied the 
 general; "love is your excuse." 
 
 "Nonsense!" cried Madame von Werrig. "Love is never 
 an excuse; it is folly." 
 
 " Well, let us suppose, then, that you did not marry for 
 love, only from pure reason, because you found that it was 
 quite time to espouse some one ; and that, in spite of your 
 many ancestors and genteel family, no other chance was 
 offered you, unfortunately— no one but this captain, whom 
 the king ennobled upon the battle-field of Leu then on account 
 of his bravery, and who was a very handsome, agreeable 
 officer, expecting still further promotion. And you were not 
 deceived. I was major, when the Hubertsburger treaty put 
 an end to a gay war-life. You will remember I was advanced 
 during peace; his majesty did not forget that I cut a way for 
 him through the enemy, and he made me lieutenant-colonel 
 and colonel, when I was obliged to resign on account of this 
 infamous gout, and then I received the title of general." 
 
 "Without 'excellency,' " replied his wife, dryly. " I have 
 not even this pleasure to be called 'excellency.' It would 
 have been a slight compensation for my sad, miserable exist- 
 ence, and vexed many of the female friends of my youth if 
 they had been obliged to call me ' excellency. ' But my mar- 
 riage brought me only cares, not even a title." 
 
 " Do not forget a lovely daughter, Clotilda. Our Marie is 
 
A PENSIONED GENERAL. 149 
 
 beautiful, wise, and good, and through her you will yet have 
 tranquil happiness. For you say the king has granted all we 
 wish." 
 
 "Everything!" repeated the wife, with emphasis. "We 
 have at last finished with want and care, and can count upon 
 an independent, quiet old age, for God has been gracious, 
 and forced you, from the gout, to give up gambling, and we 
 are freed from the misery which has so often threatened us 
 from your unhappy passion." 
 
 "At the beginning, I played from passion; afterward, I 
 only played to win back what I had lost." 
 
 "And in that manner played away all we possessed, and 
 played upon your word of honor, so that for years the half of 
 our pension went to pay your gambling-debts. Heaven be 
 thanked, the king did not know it, or we would have experi- 
 enced still worse!" 
 
 " I pray you, beloved Clotilda, do not fret yourself need- 
 lessly about the past; it is all over, and, as you say, I am un- 
 fortunately a prisoner in the house from the gout, which 
 shields me from the temptation." 
 
 "I did not say unfortunately; I said ' Heaven be praised, 
 the gout had put an end to your fickle life.' " 
 
 " Then, thank Heaven, my dear ; we will not quarrel about 
 it. It is past, and, as the king has granted all, we shall have 
 a pleasant life now." 
 
 " We will soon receive from our son-in-law a yearly pension, 
 which will be paid to me, and I shall spend it." 
 
 The general sighed. " In that case I fear that I shall not 
 get much of it." 
 
 " At any rate, more than I have ever received from your 
 pension, " 
 
 " There is but one thing wanting," replied the general, 
 evasively, " Marie's consent." 
 
 Madame von Werrig gave a short, gruff laugh, which did 
 not in the least brighten her sullen face. "We will not ask 
 her consent, but command it." 
 
150 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 The general remarked, timidly, shrugging his shoulders, 
 " Marie had a very decided character, and — " 
 
 "What do you hesitate to speak out for? What — and—*'* 
 
 "I think she still loves the Conrector Moritz." 
 
 A second laugh, somewhat menacing, sounded like a chal- 
 lenge. "The schoolmaster!" she cried, contemptuously. 
 " Let her dare to tell me again she loves the schoolmaster ; 
 she the daughter of a general, and a native-born countess of 
 the empire!" 
 
 " My dear, it was your fault — the only fault you ever com- 
 mitted, perhaps. How could you let such a young, hand- 
 some, and agreeable man come to the house as teacher to our 
 daughter?" 
 
 " How could I suppose my daughter was so degenerated as 
 to love a common schoolmaster, and wish to marry him?" 
 
 " It is truly unheard of, and it would make any one angry, 
 my dear wife, for she insists upon loving him." 
 
 " She will not insist, she will do what she is commanded to 
 do — my word for it! But why talk about it? It is better to 
 decide the matter at once." 
 
 So Frau von Werrig rose with a determined manner, and 
 rang the small brass bell which was upon the sofa-table. But 
 a few seconds elapsed before a little, crooked servant appeared 
 at the side-door, with her dirty apron put aside by tucking 
 the corner in her belt. " Go to my daughter, and tell her to 
 come down immediately!" 
 
 The servant, instead of hastening to obey the order, re- 
 mained standing upon the threshold. " I dare not go," said 
 she, in a hoarse, croaking voice. " Fraulein told' me not to 
 disturb her to-day, for she has still two bouquets of flowers to 
 arrange, and two lessons to give, and she is so busy that she 
 is not at home to visitors. She torments herself from morn- 
 ing till night." 
 
 " I order you to tell Fraulein to come down at once ; we 
 have something important to tell her. No contradiction! 
 ,go, Trade!" 
 
A PENSIONED GENERAL. 151 
 
 The servant understood the cold, commanding tone of the 
 mother, and dared not disobey. 
 
 " It is nothing good that they have to tell her," grnmbled 
 Trade, as she hurried up the stairs which led from the first 
 story into the little, low room in the attic, under the sloping 
 roof. Here and there a few tiles could be lifted, which 
 lighted the garret sufficiently to show the door at the end. 
 ' May I come in, my dear Fraulein? it is Trade." 
 
 " The door is open," cried a sweet voice, and Trade entered. 
 It is a most charming little room, just that of a young girl. 
 The bed has a snow-white covering, and white curtains, sus- 
 pended from a hook in the wall around it. The same cur- 
 tains at the low gable- windows, whose depth, so to speak, 
 made a light anteroom to the real gloomy one in the back- 
 ground. In this little anteroom the young girl had placed 
 all that was necessary for her pleasure and use. There were 
 the most beautiful, sweet-scented flowers upon the window- 
 stool; in a pretty metal cage was a light-colored canary. 
 There were also pretty engravings, and upon the table stood a 
 vase filled with superb artificial flowers, and before it sat the 
 possessor of this room, the daughter of General and Frau 
 von Werrig, surrounded with her work-tools, paper, and col- 
 ored materials — a young girl, scarcely twenty, of a proud, 
 dignified appearance, but simply and gracefully dressed. Ac- 
 cording to the fashion of the day, her hair was slightly 
 powdered, and raised high above her broad, clear brow with a 
 blue rosette, and ends at the side. Thf nobly-formed an I 
 beautiful face was slightly flushed, and around the mouth was 
 an expression of courageous energy. As old Trade entered, 
 the young girl raised her eyes from the rose-bud which she 
 was just finishing, and looked at her. What beautiful black 
 eyes they were as they sparkled underneath the delicately- 
 arched, black eyebrows! 
 
 "Now, old one," said she, kindly, "what do you wish? 
 Did you forget that I wanted to work undisturbed to-day?" 
 
 " Didn't forget it, my Fraulein, but — " 
 
152 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 " But yon have forgotten that np here, in my attic-room, I 
 am not your Fraulein, but your Marie, whom you have taken 
 care of and watched over when a child, and whose best and 
 truest friend you have been. Come, give me your hand, and 
 tell me what you have to say." 
 
 Old Trude shuffled hurriedly along in her leather slippers., 
 Her old, homely face looked almost attractive, with its ex- 
 pression of glowing tenderness, as she regarded the beautiful, 
 smiling face before her, and laid her hard brown hand in the 
 little white one extended to her. "Marie," she said, softly 
 and anxiously, " you must go down at once to your mother 
 and father. They have something very important to tell you. " 
 
 "Something very important!" repeated Marie, laying aside 
 her work. " Do you know what it is?" 
 
 " Nothing good, I fear," sighed the old woman. "A sol- 
 dier has been here from the war department and brought a 
 letter for the general, and he told me that it was sent from 
 the king's cabinet at Breslau." 
 
 "Oh, Heaven! what does it mean?" cried Marie, fright- 
 ened, and springing up. " Something is going to happen, I 
 know. I have noticed certain expressions which escaped my 
 father ; the proud, threatening manner of my mother ; but 
 above all the bold importunity of that man, whom I despise 
 as one detests vice, stupidity, and ennui. They will not be- 
 lieve that I hate him, that I rather — " 
 
 "Marie, are you not coming?" called the mother, with a 
 commanding voice. 
 
 " I must obey," she said, drawing along breath, and hasten- 
 ing to the door, followed by Trude, who pulled her back and 
 held her fast upon the very first step. " You have forbidden 
 me to speak of him, but I must." 
 
 Marie stood as if rooted to the spot, her face flushed, and 
 in breathless expectation looking back to old Trude. 
 "Speak, Trude," she softly murmured. 
 
 " Marie, I saw him to-day, an hour ago!" 
 
 "Where, Trude, where did you see him?" 
 
THE KING'S LETTER. 153 
 
 " Over on the corner of Frederick Street, by the baker's. 
 He stood waiting for me, as he knows I always go there. He 
 had been there two hours, and feared that I was not coming." 
 
 " What did he say? Quick ! what did he say?" 
 
 " He said that he was coming to see you to-day at twelve 
 o'clock; that he would rather die than live in this way." 
 
 " To-day? and you have just told me of it!" 
 
 " I did not mean to say any thing at all about it ; I thought 
 it would be better, and then you would not have to dissemble. 
 But now, if any harm comes to you, you know he is coming, 
 ind will stand by you !" 
 
 " He will stand by me — yes, he will — " 
 
 "Marie!" cried her mother, and her dry, gaunt figure ap- 
 peared at the foot of the stairs. Marie flew down to the 
 sitting-room of her parents, following her mother, who took 
 her place in the niche at the open window without speaking 
 to her. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE KIXG'S LETTER. 
 
 ** Marie," said the general's wife, after seating herself 
 upon the hard cushion of the divan, near which sat the gen- 
 eral in his arm-chair, busily stroking his painful right leg — 
 " Marie, take a chair, and sit near us." 
 
 Marie noiselessly brought a cane-chair, and seated herself 
 by the table, opposite her parents. 
 
 " We have just received a communication from the king's 
 cabinet," said the mother, solemnly. "It is necessary that 
 you should know the contents, and I will read it aloud to you. 
 I expressly forbid you, however, to interrupt me while I am 
 reading, in your impetuous manner, with your remarks, 
 which are always of the most obstinate and disagreeable kind. 
 You understand, do you. Marie?" 
 ii 
 
154 OLD FEITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 " Perfectly, mother ; I will listen without interrupting you, 
 according to your command." 
 
 " This communication is naturally addressed to your father, 
 as I wrote to the king in his name." 
 
 " I did not know that you had written to his majesty at all, 
 dear mother." 
 
 The mother cast a furious glance at the gentle, decided face 
 of her daughter. " You already forget my command and your 
 promise to listen without interrupting me. I did, indeed, 
 write to his majesty, but it is not necessary to tell you what 
 I, or rather your father, solicited, as you will hear it in the 
 answer from our most gracious king. It runs thus: 'My 
 faithful subject: I have received your petition, and I was 
 glad to learn by this occasion that you are well, and that you 
 now lead a steady, reasonable life. Formerly you gave good 
 cause of complaint ; for it is well known to me that you led a 
 dissolute life, and your family suffered want and misfortune 
 from your abominable chance-games. You know that I have 
 twice paid your debts; that at the second time I gave you my 
 royal word of assurance that I would never pay a groschen for 
 you again. If you gave yourself up to the vice, and made 
 gambling-debts, I would send you to the fortress at Spandau, 
 and deprive you of your pension. Nevertheless you played 
 again, and commenced your vicious life anew. Notwithstand- 
 ing which, I did not send you to prison as I threatened, and 
 as you deserved, because I remembered that you had been a 
 brave soldier, and did me a good service at the battle of Leu- 
 then. For this reason I now also grant your request, that, as 
 you have no son, your name and coat-of-arms may descend to 
 your son-in-law. The name of Werrig-Leuthen is well "worthy 
 to be preserved, and be an example to succeeding generations. 
 I give my permission for Ludwig Ebenstreit, banker, to 
 marry your daughter and only child, and — ' " 
 
 Marie uttered a cry of horror, and sprang from her seat. 
 "Mother!—" 
 
 "Be still! I commanded you not to interrupt me, but lis- 
 
THE KING'S LETTER. 155 
 
 ten, with becoming respect, to the end, to the words of his 
 majesty." And, with a louder yoice, occasionally casting a 
 severe, commanding glance at her daughter, she read on: 
 " 'And call himself in future Ludwig Werrig von Leuthen. 
 I wish that he should honor the new name, and prove himself 
 a true nobleman. Ludwig Ebenstreit must give up, or sell, 
 without delay, his banking business, as I cannot permit a 
 nobleman to continue the business of citizen, and remain a 
 merchant. A nobleman must either be a soldier or a landed 
 proprietor ; and if your future son-in-law will not be either, 
 he can live upon his income, which must indeed be ample. 
 But I command him to spend it in the country, not go to for- 
 eign countries to spend what he has gained in the country. If 
 he should do it, it will not be well with him, and he shall be 
 brought back by force. You may communicate this to him, 
 and he can judge for himself. I will have the letters of no- 
 bility made out for him, for which he shall pay the sum of 
 one hundred louis d'ors to the 'Invalids' at Berlin. It de- 
 pends upon him whether as a true nobleman he will not give 
 my poor 'Invalids' a greater sum. The marriage shall not 
 take place until the letters of nobility have been published in 
 the Berlin journals, for I do not wish the daughter of a gen- 
 eral, and a countess, to marry beneath her. You can prepare 
 every thing for the wedding, and let them be married as soon 
 as the publication has been made. I will give the bride a 
 thousand thalers for a dowry, that she may not go to her 
 rich husband penniless; the money will be paid to your 
 daughter from the government treasury at her receipt. Aa 
 ever, I remain your well-disposed king, Frederick.   
 
 "And here on the margin," continued the general's wife, 
 looking over to her husband with malicious pleasure, "the 
 king has written a few lines in his own hand: 'I have given 
 orders that the money shall be paid to your daughter in per- 
 son, with her receipt for the same, for I know you, and know 
 that you do not play, not because you have not the money, but 
 the gout. If you had the cash and not the gout, you would 
 
156 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 play your daughter's dowry to the devil, and that I do not 
 wish, for a noble maiden should not marry a rich husband as 
 poor as a church mouse. Frederick. ' " 
 
 A profound stillness preVailed when the reading was fin- 
 ished. The general busied himself, as usual, rubbing his 
 gouty leg with the palm of his hand. Marie sat with her 
 hands pressed upon her bosom, as if she would force back the 
 sighs and sobs which would break forth. Her great, black 
 eyes were turned to her mother with an expression of painful 
 terror, and she searched with a deathly anxiety for a trace of 
 sympathy and mercy upon her cold, immovable face. 
 
 Her mother slowly folded the letter, and laid it upon the 
 table. " You know all now, Marie — that, as it becomes par- 
 ents, we have disposed of your future and your hand. You 
 will submit to their wishes without murmuring or opposition, 
 as it becomes an obedient, well-brought-up daughter, and re- 
 ceive the husband we have chosen for you. He will come to- 
 day to hear your consent, and you from this day forth are the 
 betrothed of the future Herr von "Werrig. Of course from 
 this very hour you will cease the highly improper and un- 
 genteel business which you have pursued. You must not 
 make any more flowers, or give any more lessons. The time 
 of such degradation and humiliation is past, and my daughter 
 can no longer be a school-mistress. You have only to write 
 the receipt to-day, and I will go with you to the treasury to 
 get the money." 
 
 " I will not write the receipt," said Marie, gently but firmly. 
 
 "iler mother, in the act of rising, sank back upon the 
 divan; and the general, apparently quite occupied with his 
 leg, stopped rubbing, and raised his red, bloated face to his 
 daughter in astonishment. " Did I understand rightly your 
 words, that you would not write the receipt?" 
 
 "Yes, mother, I said so; I cannot and will not write it," 
 replied Marie, gently. 
 
 " And why cannot you, and will you not write it?" said her 
 mother, scornfully. 
 
THE KING'S LETTER. 157 
 
 " Because I have no right to the money, and cannot take it, 
 mother, as I will never be the wife of the man you intend me 
 to marry." 
 
 The general sprang with a savage curse from his arm-chair, 
 and would have rushed to his daughter, but his wife pushed 
 him back into his seat, and approached Marie, who rose, re- 
 garding her mother with a firm, sad expression. " Why can 
 you not be the wife of the man we have chosen for you ? Answer 
 me, why you cannot?" 
 
 "You know, mother," she replied, and gradually her voice 
 assumed a more decided tone, her cheeks reddened, and an 
 inspired expression beamed from her eyes, and pervaded her 
 whole being — " you know, mother, that I can never be the wife 
 of Herr Ebenstreit, for I do not love him. I despise and abom- 
 inate him, because he is a man without honor; he knows that 
 I do not love him, and yet he insists upon marrying me. If 
 it were not so, if I did not despise and abominate him, I 
 would not receive his suit and marry him." 
 
 "Why not?" cried the general, shaking his fist at hig 
 daughter. 
 
 "Why not?" cried the mother, with a cold, icy glance, 
 void of pity or anger. 
 
 Marie encountered these looks with beaming eyes. " Because 
 I am betrothed to another," and the words came like a cry of joy 
 from her heart — " because I am engaged to my beloved Moritz !" 
 
 ,4 Shameless, obstinate creature, have we not forbidden it?" 
 cried her father. 
 
 " Stop!" interrupted his wife, with a commanding wave of 
 her hand, which silenced the obedient husband immediately. 
 " It belongs to me to question her, for I am her mother, and 
 my daughter owes me submission and obedience above all 
 things. — Answer me, Marie, did you not know that we had 
 forbidden you to speak to this man, or have any communica- 
 tion with him? Did you not know that I, your mother, had 
 menaced you with a curse if you married this man, or even 
 spoke to the miserable, pitiable creature?" 
 
158 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 " Mother, " cried Marie, vehemently, "he is not a poor, 
 miserable creature. You may hate him, but you dare no* 
 outrage the noble, the good, and just man!" 
 
 "He is a good-for-nothing fellow," cried her father; "he 
 has tried to win a minor behind the parents' back. He is a 
 shameful, good-for-nothing seducer." 
 
 "He is dishonorable," cried the general's wife — "a dis- 
 honorable man, who has misused our confidence. We con- 
 fided to him our daughter to teach, and paid him for it. He 
 improved the opportunity to make a declaration of love, and 
 stole the time from us to infatuate the heart of our daughter 
 with flattery, and from his pupil win a bride." 
 
 "Oh, unworthy, shameful slander!" cried Marie, her eyes 
 flashing with anger. " You well know that it i3 a vile scan- 
 dal, that Moritz was no paid teacher. If he had been — if he 
 had felt obliged to yield to the sad necessity of being paid 
 for his valuable time, because he was poor, and forced to live 
 by his intellect, he was a free man, and had the right to love 
 whom he chose. He loves me, and I have accepted his love 
 as the most precious, most beautiful, and most glorious gift 
 of my life. Ah! do not look so angry with me, father; I 
 cannot say otherwise. I cannot crush or deny the inmost life 
 of my life. — Oh, mother, forgive me that I cannot change it! 
 You know that otherwise I have been a most obedient daugh- 
 ter to you in all things, although you have never taught me 
 the happiness of possessing a loving mother ; though neither 
 of you could ever forgive your only child for not being a son, 
 who could inherit vour name, and win a brilliant position, yet 
 I have always loved you tenderly and truly, and never com- 
 plained that the unwelcome daughter received neither love 
 nor tenderness, only indifference and coldness from her 
 parents." 
 
 "Beautiful, very beautiful!" replied the mother, contempt- 
 uously. " Now you wish to blame us that you are a heartless 
 and thankless daughter. — We have not understood her heart, 
 and it is our fault that her love has flown somewhere else. 
 
THE KING'S LETTER. 159 
 
 lliis is the language of romance. I have, indeed, read it in 
 the romances of Herr Moritz, and my daughter has only re- 
 peated what she learned as a docile pupil from her school- 
 master. Very fine, to pay Herr Moritz to form our daughter 
 into the heroine of a romance ! She ought to have learned 
 the languages, but has learned only the language of romances." 
 
 "You are very severe and very cruel, mother," said Marie, 
 sadly. " I would not complain, only excuse myself, and im- 
 plore pity and indulgence, and defend myself from the 
 reproach of having been a cold, unloving daughter. Oh! 
 God knows how I have longed for your love ; that I would 
 willingly prove that I would joyfully do every thing to embel- 
 lish your life and make you happy. It gave me such pleasure 
 to earn something for you with my dear flowers and lessons, 
 and afford you a little gratification!" 
 
 " Ah ! now, she will reproach us with having toiled for U3 
 and sacrificed herself. Husband, thank yourself for the vic- 
 tim who worked for you, who gave her youth for us that she 
 might strew our life with roses." 
 
 "I have had enough of this talking and whining," cried 
 the general, furiously beating the table with his fist. " My 
 daughter shall not be a heroine of romance, but an obedient 
 child, who submits to the will of her parents. You shall 
 marry the man that we have chosen for you ; the king has 
 given his consent, and it shall take place. I command you ! 
 That is sufficient ! I will hear no more about it ; the thing is 
 done with. Herr Ebenstreit is coming this afternoon to make 
 you a proposal of marriage with our consent, and you must 
 accept him. I command you to do it!" 
 
 " I cannot obey you ! Oh, do not force me to rebel against 
 God's holy laws! Have pity upon me! I have obeyed you 
 until now, and yielded to your wishes, although I thought it 
 would break my heart sometimes. You have forbidden Mor- 
 itz the house, and turned him out of doors like a servant, 
 with scorn and contempt, and he has silently borne it on my 
 account. You have forbidden me to write or receive letters 
 
160 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 from him, or ever to meet him. My mother would curse me 
 if I disobeyed her, and I submitted. I have given up every 
 thing, sacrificed every wish, and renounced my love. But 
 yoa cannot expect more from me, or dare ask it. I can forego 
 happiness, but you cannot ask me to consent to be buried 
 alive!" 
 
 "And what if we should wish it?" asked her mother. "If 
 we should demand our daughter to give up a romantic, fool- 
 ish love, to become the wife of a young man who loves her, 
 and who loves us, and who is rich enough to assure us a com- 
 fortable old age, free from care?" 
 
 " Marie," cried the general, in a begging and almost implor- 
 ing tone, " Marie, prove to us now that you are really a good 
 and grateful child — we have had so much care and want in 
 our life, so many sorrowful days ! It lies in your hands to 
 make our declining days joyous and bright, and free us from 
 want. We have often grumbled against God, that He did 
 not give us a son; now make us to rejoice that He has given 
 us a daughter, who will bring us a son and inherit our name 
 through her children, and who will give us what we have 
 never known — prosperity and riches. I beg you, my dear, 
 good child, grant your parents the few last years of their life 
 freedom from care!" 
 
 "And I, Marie," said her mother, in a softened and tender 
 tone, which Marie had never heard from her — " I beg you 
 also, be a good daughter, pity your mother ! I have always 
 led a joyless, unhappy life. I lived unmarried, a native-born 
 countess, with proud relations, who made me feel bitterly my 
 dependence; when married my existence was only trouble, 
 privations, care, and sorrow. I beg you, Marie, teach me to 
 know happiness, for which I have so longed in vain ; give me 
 independence and prosperity, which I have always desired, 
 and never known. I pray, Marie, make us happy in bringing 
 us a rich, genteel, and good son-in-law, Herr Ebenstreit." 
 
 Marie, who met the scorn and threats of her mother with 
 firmness and a proud demeanor, trembled as she heard these 
 
HATE AND LOVE. 161 
 
 severe and merciless lips, always so cold and harsh, now beg- 
 ging and imploring. At first she was quite frightened, and 
 then terrified, and covered her face with her hands, her head 
 sinking upon her breast as her mother spoke. 
 
 "Speak, my daughter," cried the general, as his wife waa 
 silent. " Speak, my dear Marie. Say the word, and we shall 
 be all happy, and there will be no happier family found in 
 Berlin, or the world even. Say that you will marry Eben- 
 streit, and we will love and bless you so long as we live. Do 
 say yes, dear Marie!" 
 
 Her hands fell from her face, and stretching them out 
 toward her parents, she looked at them in despair. 
 
 There was a fearful pause. "I cannot, it is impossible!"" 
 she shrieked. " I cannot marry this man, for I do not lova 
 him. I love another, whom I can never forget, whom I 
 shall love forever. I love — " 
 
 " Herr Conrector Moritz!" announced Trude, hastily burst- 
 ing open the door, and looking in with a triumphant smile. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 HATE AND LOVE. 
 
 " Herr Conrector Moritz wishes to pay his respects," 
 called out Trude again. 
 
 " We do not wish to receive him," cried Frau von Werrig, 
 
 " He dare not presume to enter!" shrieked the general. 
 
 Marie cried, "Moritz! Oh! my beloved Moritz," rushing 
 with outstretched arms toward her lover, who just appeared 
 at the door. " God has sent you to sustain me in this fearful 
 hour." 
 
 Old Trude peeped through the half -closed door, well satis- 
 fied to see her dear young lady folded in Moritz's arms, and 
 her head leaning upon his shoulder. "Yes," she murmured, 
 closing softly the door, " Marie is right, God himself sent her 
 
162 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 lover in this hour, and I would not let her wicked, hard- 
 hearted parents send him away." 
 
 Quick as thought she turned the key, fastening the door, 
 and hetook herself to the farthest room, carefully closing 
 every door between them. " Now we will see for once whether 
 they will show him the door, and pitch him out. No, they 
 will be obliged to listen to him. Old Trude wishes it, for it 
 will make her dear Marie happy. It is all the same to me if 
 the old German tries to scratch my eyes out for it ; I will take 
 good care to keep out of his way. I must go and listen once. " 
 
 She put her ear to the keyhole, and then her eye, to see 
 how the quarrellers looked. 
 
 At first the general and his wife were quite alarmed, and 
 almost speechless as they witnessed the joyful meeting of the 
 lovers. The father sprang up suddenly, with clinched fist, 
 but intsead of bitter invectives only a fearful shriek of pain 
 was heard, as he sank groaning and whimpering into his arm- 
 chair. The gout had again seized its victim. Anger had ex- 
 cited the general's blood, and had also brought on the pain in 
 his leg again. His wife took no notice of his cries and 
 groans, for it was quite as agreeable to her to be the only 
 speaker, and have her moaning husband a kind of assenting 
 chorus. "Leave each other!" she commanded, as she ap- 
 proached the lovers, flourishing her long shrivelled arms 
 about. " Leave each other, and leave my house!" 
 
 Laying her hand on Marie's arm, which was thrown around 
 her lover's neck, she endeavored to tear her away, and draw 
 her daughter toward herself. But Marie clung only the more 
 firmly, and Moritz pressed her more fervently to his heart. 
 They heeded not and heard not the outburst of anger which 
 the mother gave way to. They read in each other's eyes the 
 bliss, the joy of meeting again, and the assurance of constant, 
 imperishable lov& 
 
 "You are pale and thin, my beloved!'* 
 
 "Sorrow for you is consuming me, iviarie, but, thank 
 Heaven, you are unchanged, and beautiful as ever!" 
 
HATE AND LOVE. 163 
 
 "Hope and love have consoled and strengthened me, 
 Philip." 
 
 "Enough! I forbid you to speak another word to each 
 other," and with the power which rage lends, the mother tore 
 Marie away. " Herr Moritz, will you tell me by what right 
 you force yourself into our house, and surprise us like a street- 
 thief in our peaceful dwelling? But no! you need not tell 
 me, I will not listen to you. Those who permit themselves to 
 enter our room unasked and unwelcomed — I will have nothing 
 to say to them. Leave! there is the door! Out with you, off 
 the threshold!" 
 
 With calm demeanor, Moritz now approached Frau von 
 Werrig, demanding her pardon, saying: "You see, ma- 
 dame, that I am not so unwelcome here, therefore you will be 
 obliged to let me remain." 
 
 "Yes, that she will," sneered Trade, outside the door. 
 " It will be difficult for her to send him off so long as I am 
 unwilling." 
 
 " No, I will not permit it. We have nothing to do with 
 each other. Out of my sight ! — Away!" 
 
 "Away!" cried the general. "Oh, the gout, the madden- 
 ing pains ! I cannot throw the bold fellow out of the house ! 
 I must lie here, and writhe like a worm ! I cannot be master 
 of my house. Oh, oh! what pain!" 
 
 "Stay, Philip," whispered Marie, as she again leaned 
 toward Moritz. " They wish to sell me and force me to a 
 hated marriage. Do not yield! save me!" 
 
 " You are mine, Marie ; you have sworn to me eternal con- 
 stancy, and no one can compel you to marry if you do not 
 wish to." 
 
 "We are her parents; we can, and we will compel her," 
 triumphantly cried Frau von Werrig. " The king has given 
 his consent, and if it is necessary we will drag her to the altar 
 by force!" 
 
 "Do it, mother, and I will say no before all the world." 
 
 " We will take care that no one hears you but the priesfc, 
 
164 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 and he will not listen, as he knows that the king has com- 
 manded you to say yes! " 
 
 " But God will hear her, Frau von Werrig, and He will take 
 vengeance on the cruel, heartless mother." 
 
 "I will await this vengeance," she sneered. "It does not 
 concern you, and you need not trouble yourself about it. 
 Leave the house!" 
 
 " I came here to speak with you, and I will not go away 
 until you have listened to me." 
 
 " Then i" will leave, for I will not hear you, and I command 
 you to follow me, Marie!" 
 
 She seized Marie with irresistible force, and drew her 
 toward the side door, which was fast. Then hurried toward 
 the entrance, dragging her daughter after her, but shook it 
 in vain ; that door was fastened also. 
 
 "Oh! I could kiss myself," murmured Trude, as she patted 
 her old, wrinkled cheeks. " I was as cunning and wise as 
 Solomon. There, shriek for Trude, order her to open it. 
 Trude is not there, and she has no ears for you!" 
 
 "This is a plot — a shameful plot!" cried Frau von Werrig, 
 stamping her feet. " That good-for-nothing creature, Trude, 
 is in it. She has. locked the doors, and the schoolmaster paid 
 her for it." 
 
 Trude shook her fist at her mistress behind the door. 
 " Wait ! that good-for-nothing creature will punish you ! You 
 shall have something to be angry about with me every day." 
 
 " I swear to you that I do not know who locked the doors, " 
 replied Moritz, calmly. " But whoever did it, I thank them 
 from the depths of my soul, for it forces you to listen to me, 
 and may love give my words the power to soften your hearii 
 General and Frau von Werrig, I conjure you to have compas 
 sion upon us. Is it possible that you are deaf to the cry of 
 grief of your own child?" 
 
 Suddenly assuming a contemptuous calm, Frau von Werrig 
 sank back upon the divan with great dignity. "As I am 
 obliged to listen to you, through a shameful deception, let it 
 
HATE AND LOVE. 165 
 
 be so. Try to make ears in my heart, which you say is deaf. 
 Let me listen to your wonderful eloquence!" 
 
 "Oh, Philip!" said Marie, clasping his arms, "you see it 
 will all be in vain." 
 
 " Let me hope to succeed in awakening a spark of loving 
 mercy, as Moses caused the fountain to gush from the rock. — 
 A year since you turned me insultingly from your door, Frau 
 von Werrig, and you forbade me with scorn and contempt to 
 ever cross your threshold. In the rebellious pride of my heart 
 I swore never to do it again, never to speak to those who had 
 so injared me. The holy, pure love which binds me to this 
 dear girl has released me from my oath. We have tried to 
 live separated from each other a long year, an inconsolable, 
 unhappy year ! We hoped to renounce each other, although 
 we could not forget. Marie, as an obedient daughter, obeyed 
 your commands, and returned the ring, which I gave her in 
 a moment of affection and holy trust. I released her from 
 the oath of constancy, and made her free ! But it is in vain ! 
 During this year I have striven with sorrow as a man, helpless 
 in a desert, who writhes in the folds of the poisonous serpent. 
 I should have gone mad if a consoling word from a great and 
 noble mind had not roused me from my desolation, and if 
 love had not shed a ray of light into my benighted soul. I 
 listened no longer to sickening pride and humbled sense of 
 honor. Love commanded me to come here, and I came to ask 
 you, Marie, in the presence of your parents, if you will be my 
 wife ; if you will accept my poor, insignificant name, and be 
 contented by my side to lead a quiet, modest existence. I 
 can only earn sufficient to assure us a peaceful life. I have 
 no splendor, no treasures to offer you, but only my love, my 
 heart, my life, my whole thought and being. Will you ac- 
 cept it, Marie?" 
 
 " I do accept it, Moritz, as the greatest happiness of my 
 life. I desire only your love, and I can return only my love 
 to you! Here is my hand, Philip, it belongs to you alone! 
 Let us kneel in humility before my parents, and implore their 
 
166 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 blessing. — Oh, my father and mother, have pity upon us! 
 See this dear man, to whom my whole heart belongs. I de- 
 sire only to live and toil with him. There are no riches, no 
 treasures, to compare with his love!" 
 
 " General and Frau von Werrig, grant me the wife of my 
 heart!" cried Philip Moritz, deeply moved. "It is true, I 
 am not worthy of her, I have no name, no position, to offer 
 her, but I swear to strive to gain it for her. I will win by 
 my talents and knowledge a distinguished name, and perhaps 
 one day you will concede to my fame that I am a noble man, 
 though not a nobleman. Will you separate two hearts which 
 belong to each other? Take me for your son-in-law, and I 
 ;swear to be devoted and faithful, to love and honor you for 
 your daughter's sake. I can say no more — words cannot ex- 
 press all that I feel. Love causes me to kneel before you, love 
 makes me humble as a child. I implore you to give me your 
 daughter in marriage." 
 
 "I also implore you," cried Marie, sinking down beside 
 Moritz, " give to me this man, whom I love and honor, for 
 my husband." 
 
 It was a beautiful and impressive scene — these two young 
 beings pleading for happiness ; their eyes flashing with the 
 inspiration of feeling, conscious that they were one in affec- 
 tion, and ready to combat the whole world for each other. 
 But Frau von "Werrig was immovable, and the general was too 
 much occupied with his gouty, throbbing leg even to cast a 
 look upon the beautiful group of youth, love, manly deter- 
 mination, and tender resignation. 
 
 Outside the door, Trude knelt imploringly, with folded 
 hands, while the tears ran down her old cheeks in big drops. 
 " God, I well know that they have no pity ; have mercy 
 Thou, and cause my dear Marie to be happy! Suffer not that 
 that hard-hearted woman should sell her, and marry her to 
 that bad man my Marie despises. I well know that I am a 
 poor creature, and not worthy that Thou shouldst listen to 
 me, Lord ! But I love that young girl as if she were my 
 
HATE AND LOVE. 167 
 
 own child, and I would give my heart's blood for her. Oh, 
 my God ! I implore Thee to let my Marie be happy !" Then 
 she continued, as she rose from her knees. " Now, I have 
 spoken, and I commit every thing to God, and He will do 
 what is best. She has been obliged to listen to him, and if it 
 cannot be otherwise, he must go." 
 
 Carefully old Trude unlocked both doors, and then stopped 
 to listen. 
 
 Trude was right, there was no mercy in Frau von Werrig's 
 heart. "Have you finished? Have you any thing more to 
 say?" she asked, in her most unsympathizing manner. 
 
 " Nothing more with our lips, but our hearts still implore 
 
 — *-~- »» 
 you. 
 
 " I do not understand this language, sir, and you have not 
 succeeded in giving me hearing, or ears to hear with. In 
 this useless strife I will say a last word, which I hope will be 
 for life. You shall never be the husband of my daughter! 
 You can never be united." 
 
 Marie and Moritz sprang from their knees, laying their 
 hands in each other's, and looked what words could not have 
 better expressed — " We are inseparable, nothing can disunite 
 us but death!" 
 
 "I desire you not to interrupt me," commanded Frau von 
 Werrig; " I have listened to you, and now you shall listen to 
 me. I promise you to speak with more brevity than you 
 have. I will not trouble you with useless phrases and tedious 
 lamentations. I will speak to the point. Marie is the 
 daughter of General Werrig von Leuthen, whose name would 
 become extinct if the grace and favor of the king had not 
 prevented it, by permitting the husband whom we have chosen 
 for our daughter to take our name, and therewith become our 
 son. You may think, in your arrogance of commoner, and 
 the pride you take in having won the love of the daughter of 
 General von Leuthen, that you could be this husband and 
 son-in-law. But two things fail you: first, the necessary 
 fortune ; and, secondly, the king's consent, and that of her 
 
168 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 father. If you were rich, it might be possible that we should 
 be touched by the tender amorousness of our daughter, and 
 conquer our aversion to you for her sake. You are of low 
 birth, and take a subordinate position in society. It would 
 be extremely laughable for the schoolmaster Moritz to change 
 suddenly into a Herr von Werrig Leuthen. Our son-in-law 
 must be a rich man, in order to be able to give his new title 
 consideration; and, fortunately, the wooer of my daughter's 
 hand possesses this qualification, and therefore we have given 
 our consent. The king has approved our choice, and 
 permits the rich banker Ludwig Ebenstreit to become our son- 
 in-law, and take our name. The king has in this communi- 
 cation, which lies upon the table, and which Marie has heard 
 read, given his assurance to ennoble Ebenstreit upon two con- 
 ditions : first, that the banker should give up his business,, 
 and live upon his income ; and, secondly, that the marriage 
 should not take place until the papers of nobility are made 
 out and published, so that the daughter of General von Wer- 
 rig should not make a misalliance. You know all now, and 
 you will at last understand that there is but one thing for you 
 to do — conquer your foolish presumption, and beg to be ex- 
 cused for your unheard-of boldness in forcing yourself into 
 our house, and then withdraw quickly. If my ear does not 
 deceive me, your accomplice has opened the doors. I think I 
 heard rightly, if my heart has no ears, my head possesses bet- 
 ter. We have finished. I would again enjoin upon you the 
 duty of begging for pardon, and then I close this unrefreshing 
 scene with the same words with which it opened — there is the 
 door — go out!" 
 
 "Yes, there is the door — go out of it! I want to be 
 quiet — go ! My daughter is the betrothed of the rich banker 
 Herr Ebenstreit; she will be his wife as soon as the papers 
 are made out and published. — Go!" cried the general. 
 
 The young couple still stood there, hand in hand, looking 
 at the general, until now their eyes met, beaming with ten- 
 derest affection for each other. "Is it true, Marie? Speak,. 
 
HATE AND LOVE. 169 
 
 my beloved, is it true, will you be the wife of this rich man 
 whom your parents have chosen for you?" 
 
 "No, Philip," she calmly and firmly replied. "No, I will 
 not, for I do not love him, I love only you ; and here, in the 
 presence of God and my parents, I swear to you that I will be 
 constant to death! They can prevent my becoming your 
 wife, but they cannot force me to wed another. I swear, 
 then, that if I cannot be yours, I will never marry!" 
 
 "I receive your oath, and God has heard it also!" said 
 Moritz, solemnly. 
 
 "I have also heard it, and I tell you," said Frau von Wer- 
 rig, " that this romantic heroine will become a perjurer, for 
 I will find means to make her break her silly oath." 
 
 " We will, perhaps, find means to delay the marriage," said 
 Moritz, proudly, " or, much more, prevent the marriage cere- 
 mony." 
 
 "I am very curious to know the means," said Frau von 
 Werrig. " From this hour Marie is the betrothed of Herr 
 Ebenstreit, and the wedding will take place so soon — " 
 
 " So soon as the title of nobility is published. That is it, 
 that is the clause to be filled; and therefore I tell you, be- 
 loved, wait and hope ! This woman is without pity and with- 
 out mercy ; but God is in heaven, and Frederick the Great 
 on the earth. Wait and hope. Be firm in hope, and con- 
 stant in love. Do not lose courage, and let them force you to 
 compliance by threats and anger. I have only you to confide 
 in and to love in the world, and you are my hope, my goal, 
 and the happiness of my life. If you forsake me, I lose my 
 good angel, and am a lost, miserable man, whom it would be 
 better to hurl into the deepest abyss than let him suffer the 
 torments of hated existence. The knowledge of your love 
 gives me strength and courage ; it will inspire me to fight like 
 a hero, to win the dear, beloved wife, to whom I would yield 
 my life in order to receive it anew from her purified and sanc- 
 tified. The knowledge that I had lost you, would ruin me." 
 
 Laying both hands upon his shoulder, Marie looked at him 
 
 12 
 
170 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 with eyes beaming with affection, renewing her vow that she 
 would never love or marry another. " We will be courageous 
 in hope, and brave in constancy. Listen to me, my beloved ; 
 listen, my mother — I betrothed myself to this dear man! 
 You can prevent my becoming his wife now, but in four years 
 I am of age, and then I shall be my own mistress. Then, my 
 dear Philip, I will be your wife. Let us wait and hope!" 
 
 "Yes, Marie, we will wait and hope. — Farewell! Do not 
 forget that there is a great God in heaven, and a great king 
 upon earth. — Farewell!" 
 
 He pressed the hand clasped in his own passionately to his 
 lips, and felt from the pressure of her delicate fingers a re- 
 newed vow of constancy. Buoyed with this hope in the sad 
 hour of parting, they were happy and joyful. Marie accom- 
 panied him to the door — still hand in hand. 
 
 "Presume not to go a step farther," commanded her 
 mother, and Marie, obedient to her wishes, remained near the 
 door, bowed to Moritz, and never ceased to regard him, with 
 love beaming in her eyes, until the door closed. Outside 
 stood old Trude, to tell him that she would be at the baker's 
 at seven o'clock every morning, and wait for his commissions, 
 "and may be I shall have something to bring you," she said. 
 "So do come!" 
 
 " I will, my good Trude ; you are the only person who is 
 friendly to us. Watch over my angel, console her with your 
 affection, and when they are too hard upon her, come to me." 
 
 "I surely will, but listen — they are already quarrelling 
 with my good angel. I will go in, to serve as a lightning-rod 
 for dear Marie. I often do it, and it pleases me when the 
 lightning strikes, and dashes my hard old head to the ground, 
 but does not hurt me at all. — Farewell, Herr Moritz, the 
 lightning-rod must go in." 
 
 Trude entered suddenly and noiselessly the sitting-room, 
 and interrupted the angry reproaches which Frau von Werrig 
 hurled against Marie in a furious stream of words. The 
 countess's rage turned against Trude, who stared as if to 
 
HATE AND LOVE. 171 
 
 challenge her. "What do you want? How dare you enter 
 uncalled?" 
 
 " I thought you were calling deaf old Trade, or why did 
 you scream so?" replied Trade, tartly. 
 
 " Perhaps it was the general. Ah ! there lies the poor, dear 
 old man, groaning and crying, and nobody has any pity for 
 him." 
 
 "Ah! Trade, it is good luck that you are here," whined 
 the general. " No one troubles himself about me. Quick, 
 bring warm covering for my leg, the pain is fearful!" 
 
 " Poor, dear father, I will take care of you, I will nurse 
 you," said Marie, hastening to him. Her mother pushed her 
 back violently. " Not a step farther ; you have no right to 
 go near him, you are his murderess. On your head will fall 
 the guilt, if these dreadful scenes should cause his death." 
 
 "No, no, the general will not die quite yet," said Trade 
 busying herself about his arm-chair. " But, Franlein, you 
 have got something else to do than stay here. They have 
 already sent for the flowers twice, and the French lady is 
 waiting up-stairs to parlez-vous." 
 
 Marie looked her friendly thanks, and quietly and quickly 
 left the room. 
 
 " Now, bold woman, I have a last word to say to you. Who 
 locked the door when that creature came?" 
 
 "7, madame," answered Trade, who was just bringing a 
 great cushion from the back-room to cover the general's feet. 
 
 "You acknowledge that you locked the door intentionally?" 
 
 " Now, my dear, good Frau von Werrig, one does not lock 
 a door by mistake. I did not want Herr Moritz to run away 
 with fright, before you had given him your mind, and set his 
 head straight. He would certainly have escaped, and only 
 heard the half of your beautiful talk, for he had no idea what 
 a miserable fellow he is. So I locked both doors, and he was 
 obliged to listen to you, and has gone away contrite and re- 
 pentant. There, there, my poor, dear general, is your foot 
 high enough? Shall I not bring the foot- warmer?" 
 
172 OLD FEITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 " You shall not bring any thing, nor do any thing more. 
 You are a hypocrite, who connives with Moritz. Leave my 
 house this very hour! You are dismissed my service. Go 
 pack up your things and be off !" cried Fran von Werrig. 
 
 " Oh, do not go, Trude, for mercy's sake, for then I have 
 no one to help me," cried the general. 
 
 " I cannot do otherwise, she has given me my dismissal. ** 
 Trude approached Frau von Werrig respectfully, saying, " So 
 I must pack up and go away at once?" 
 
 "Immediately, you deceitful creature!" 
 
 " Immediately ! but Frau von Werrig will be so good as to 
 give me my wages." 
 
 "Yes," she answered in a slower and more subdued voice. 
 *' That shall be done presently." 
 
 " It will not be so very difficult to reckon them, I have been 
 here twenty years ; just as many years as Marie is old, for I 
 came as child's nurse, and have helped her learn to talk and 
 walk, and played mother to the dear child a bit. Then I 
 obtained my wages, for they were good times ; but the pension- 
 time came, and we had no cook or servant but me. 'The rats 
 run away if the ship springs a leak, ' but the old mole Trude 
 stayed. Mankind is in the world to work, I said, and why 
 .should not I be the cook and waiting-maid too, that my little 
 Marie should not want any thing? So I became maid-of -all- 
 work and have stayed here ever since. Then, you told me you 
 would double my wages, and give me twenty thalers a year, and 
 four thalers at Christmas. Is it not so, Frau von Werrig?" 
 
 " I believe that was the agreement." 
 
 " I am quite certain about it," cried the general, who began 
 to understand the drift of Trude. " Yes, Trude was to have 
 twenty thalers a year, and we are owing her many years' 
 wages. You know, wife, I have always kept an account-book 
 
 for the debts, and only a few days ago Oh ! oh ! the pain ! 
 
 Trude, help me cover up the foot warmer ! — we reckoned it 
 up a few days ago, and we owe Trude one hundred and thirty 
 thalers." 
 
CHARLES AUGUSTUS AND GOETHE. 173 
 
 "One hundred and thirty thalers," repeated Trude, clap- 
 ping her hands, astonished. "Is it true? oh, that is splen- 
 did. I shall be rich, and get a husband yet. I pray you give 
 it to me, Frau von Werrig, right away." 
 
 "Not so quickly," said she, proudly. "We will reckon 
 together how much you have saved — because — " 
 
 "Oh!" interrupted Trude, "how good you are to make me 
 keep so much ; you are my savings bank, where I can deposit 
 my money." 
 
 " Because," she continued, with emphasis, without noticing 
 the interruption, " our future son-in-law will pay your wages, 
 the rich banker, Herr Ebenstreit. Yes, the wealthy lover of 
 our daughter. At the moment I have not so much cash in 
 the house." 
 
 " Your grace will allow me to stay until Herr Ebenstreit is 
 married, and, in your name, pays me my wages?" 
 
 "Yes, Trude, I will allow you to stay," she replied, very 
 graciously. " You will be cunning, Trude, if you try to per- 
 suade Marie to accept the rich suitor, for when she does I will 
 give you two hundred thalers." 
 
 " I will do all I can to get it. Can I remain here until 
 Marie is married?" 
 
 "Yes, you have my permission for that." 
 
 " I thank you, Frau von Werrig. Now, general, I will 
 bring you some warm coverings right away. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 CHARLES AUGUSTUS AND GOETHE. 
 
 "Now tell me, Wolf," asked Duke Charles Augustus, 
 stretching himself comfortably on the sofa, puffing clouds of 
 smoke from his pipe — " are you not weary of dawdling about 
 in this infamously superb pile of stones, called Berlin? Shall 
 we any longer elegantly scrape to the right and to the left, 
 
174 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 "with abominable sweet speeches and mere flattering phrase- 
 ology, in this monster of dnst and stone, of sand and sun, 
 parades and gaiters? Have you not enough of blustering 
 generals, of affected women? and of running about the streets 
 like one possessed to see here a miserable church, or there a 
 magnificent palace? Are you not weary of crawling about as 
 one of the many, while at home you stride about as the only 
 one of the many? And weary also of seeing your friend and 
 pupil Carl August put off with fair promises and hollow 
 speeches like an insignificant, miserable mortal, without being 
 able to answer with thundering invectives. Ah ! breath fails 
 me. I feel as if I could load a pistol with myself, and with 
 a loud report shoot over to dear Weimar. Wolf, do talk, I 
 beg you, I am tired out; answer me." 
 
 "I reply, I shoot, my dear Carl," cried Goethe, laughing. 
 " I was out of breath myself from that long speech. Was it 
 original with my dear prince, or did he memorize it from 
 Klinger's great 'Sturm-und-Drang' tragedy? It reminded 
 me of it." 
 
 "Do you mean to accuse me of plagiarism, wicked fellow? 
 I grant that you are right, my cunning Wolf, it was a lapsus. 
 I did think of Klinger, and I sympathized witli his youthful 
 hero Wild, who declared that, among the sweetest pleasures, 
 he would like to be stretched over a drum, or exist in a pistol- 
 barrel, the hand ready to blow him into the air." 
 
 Goethe shoved aside the breakfast-table, straightened his 
 delicate form, with his noble head proudly erect, and one foot 
 in advance, extended his right arm, giving one loud hurrah I 
 " Now, for once, a tumult and noise, that thought may turn 
 about like a weathercock. This savage noise has already 
 wrought its own benefit. I begin to feel a little better. Rage 
 and expand, mad heart, quicken yourself in hurly-burly — 
 burly-burly!"* 
 
 "Bravo! bravo!" laughed the duke. "Is that Klinger, 
 or who is it that refreshes himself in hurly-burly?" 
 
 * From Klinger's tragedy " Sturm und Drang." 
 
CHARLES AUGUSTUS AND GOETHE. 175 
 
 "It is I who am every thing," replied Goethe, striding and 
 swaggering up and down. " I was an assistant, in order to 
 be something — lived upon the Alps, tended the goats, lay under 
 the vault of heaven day and night, refreshed by the cool pas- 
 tures, and burned with the inward fire. No peace, no rest 
 anywhere. See, I swell with power and health! I cannot 
 waste myself away. I would take part in the campaign here ; 
 then can my soul expand, and if they do me the service to 
 shoot me down, well and good!" * 
 
 "Bravo! Wild, bravo!" cried the duke. "Hei! that 
 thundered and rolled, and struck fire ! It does me good to 
 hear such vigorous words from an able rare genius in the 
 midst of this miserable, starched elegance. The powerful 
 Germans are healthy fellows. Something of the Promethean 
 fire blazes forth in them. They were forced to come, those 
 jolly, uproarious boys, after the affected cue period; they 
 were the full, luxurious plants, and my Wolfgang, the favorite 
 of my heart, my poet and teacher, is the divine blossom of 
 this plant. Let them prevail, these 'Stunner und Dranger,' 
 for they are the fathers and brothers of my Wolfgang. Do 
 me the sole pleasure not to refine yourself too much, but let 
 this divine fire burst forth in volcanic flames, and leave the 
 thundering crater uncovered. Sometimes when I see you so- 
 simpering, so modest and ceremonious, I ask myself, with 
 anxiety, if it is the same Wolfgang Goethe, who used to drink 
 'Smollis' with me at merry bacchanals out of death-skulls? — 
 the same with whom I used to practise whip-cracking upon 
 the market-place hours long, to the terror of the good citi- 
 zens? — the same who used to dance so nimbly the two-steps, 
 and was inexhaustible in mad pranks. Now tell me, Herr 
 Wolfgang, are you yourself, or are you another?" 
 
 " I am myself, and not myself," answered Goethe, smiling. 
 " There still remains a good portion of folly in me, and it 
 must sometimes thunder and flash, but I hope the atmosphere 
 of my soul will become clearer, and over the crater a more 
 
 * From Klinger's tragedy " Sturm und Drang." 
 
176 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 lovely garden will spread out, in which beautiful, fragrant 
 flowers will bloom, useful and profitable for my friends and 
 myself. Sometimes I long for this as for the promised land ; 
 then again it foams and thunders in me like fermenting must, 
 which, defying all covers and hoops, would froth up to heaven 
 in an immense source of mad excitement!" 
 
 " Let it froth and foam, and spring the covers, and burst 
 the old casks," cried the duke; "I delight in it, and every in- 
 fernal noise you make, the prouder I am to recognize that 
 from this foaming must will clear itself a marvellous wine, a 
 delicious beverage for gods and men, with which the world 
 will yet refresh itself, when we are long gone to the kingdom 
 of shades — to the something or nothing. You know, Wolf, I 
 love you, and I am proud that I have you! It is true that 1 
 possess only a little duchy, but it is large enough to lead an 
 agreeable and comfortable existence — large enough for a little 
 earthly duke, and the great king of intellects, Johann Wolf- 
 gang Goethe. Let us return to our dear home, for I acknowl- 
 edge to you I sigh for Weimar. I long for the dear little 
 place, where every one knows me and greets me, and even for 
 my dogs and horses." 
 
 "And I," said Goethe, "I really mourn for my Tusculum, 
 which I owe to the generous, kind duke ; for the balcony of 
 my little cottage, where, canopied by the blue, starry vault of 
 heaven, I dream away the lonely May nights." 
 
 " Is there nothing else you sigh for but the summer-house 
 at Weimar?" 
 
 "No!" cried Goethe, and an indescribable expression of 
 rapture and delight was manifest in his whole manner. 
 
 "No, why should I deny it, how could I? It would be 
 treason to the Highest and most Glorious. No, I long for my 
 muse, my mistress, my — " 
 
 "Beloved!" interrupted the duke. " I pray you not to be 
 so prudish, so reserved. Have the courage to snap your fin- 
 gers at this infamously deceitful moral code, and proud and 
 distinguished as you are, elevate yourself above what these 
 
CHARLES AUGUSTUS AND GOETHE. 17 T 
 
 miserable earthworms call morality. For the eagle there is a 
 different law than for the pigeon. If the eagle soars aloft 
 through the ether to his eyry, bearing a lamb in his powerful 
 claws, has he not a right to it — the right of superiority and 
 power by God's grace? Has he not as much right to the 
 lamb as the pigeon to the pea which she finds in the dust? 
 If the pigeon by chance sees the eagle with his lamb, she 
 cries, 'Zeter! mordio!' with the pea in her own bill, as if she 
 were in a position to judge the eagle." 
 
 "A beautiful picture," cried Goethe, joyfully — "a picture 
 that would inspire me to indite a poem." 
 
 "Write one, and call it for a souvenir 'The Eagle and the 
 Dove. ' Make it a reality, my eagle youth, bear off the white 
 lamb to your eyry, and let the world, with its affected moral- 
 ity, say what it likes. How can you bear to see the one you 
 love at the side of another man? Tell me, confess to me, is 
 not the beautiful Charlotte von Stein your beloved?" 
 
 * Not in the sense you mean, duke, not in the vulgar sense 
 of the word. I love her, I adore her, with a pure and holy 
 sentiment. I would not that Charlotte should have cause to 
 blush before her children on my account. She would be des- 
 ecrated to me if I, in my inmost soul, could imagine the blush 
 of shame upon her cheek, or that her eye could brighten at 
 other than great, beautiful, and noble acts. I adore her, and 
 to me she is the ideal of the purest and sweetest womanhood. 
 I rejoice that she is as she is, like clear mountain crystal — 
 transparent and so brightly pure, that one could mirror him- 
 self therein. She stands above all other women, and to her 
 belong all my thoughts, and would, even if I were wedded to 
 another. To me she is the most beautiful of the beautiful, 
 the purest of the pure, the most graceful of the graceful, and 
 all my thoughts are in perfect harmony with hers. Now, 
 duke, if it is agreeable to you, knowing my feelings, to call 
 Charlotte von Stein my beloved, she is so in the most elevated 
 sense of the word." 
 
 "Ah! you poets, you poets," sighed the duke, smiling. 
 
178 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 " A streak of madness in you all, though I will grant that it 
 is divine." 
 
 " Say rather that Whit-Sunday comes to us every day, and 
 the divine Spirit descends daily upon us poets, and causes ua 
 to speak in unknown tongues." 
 
 " I will say that you are the god Apollo descended from 
 heaven, and with gods one may not dare to dispute. They 
 act differently in their sphere than we mortals upon earth. 
 I will be contented if our ways cross from time to time, and 
 we can once in a while walk on together a good piece the way 
 of life in friendship and harmony. If it would please my 
 Wolf, I propose to turn toward beloved Weimar, the dear 
 place, half village, half city. For my part I am finished 
 here, my business with General von Mollendorf is accom- 
 plished. As I told you previously, I have had made known to 
 the king my refusal to allow recruiting in my duchy. I could 
 not consent for the present. In short, I have spoken as my 
 secretary Wolfgang Goethe has recorded.* General Mollen- 
 dorf has waived his demand for the present — and to-day we 
 have had the concluding conference, and if it is agreeable to 
 my secretary, we might set off this afternoon and pass a day 
 •at Dessau, and then on to Weimar." 
 
 " Oh, gladly will I do it; it seems as if a star from heaven 
 had twinkled to me to follow it, for at Weimar is centred all 
 my happiness ! I prefer a lowly cabin there to all the splendor 
 and palaces of a city." 
 
 " Then you agree with me, that this magnificently vile Ber- 
 lin does not enchain you in her magic net?" 
 
 " No, she holds me not, though it has been pleasant to take 
 a peep into it (like a child into a curiosity-box). I have seen 
 'Old Fritz.' His character, his gold, and his silver, his mar- 
 bles, his apes and parrots, and even his town curtains please 
 me. It is pleasant to be at the seat of war at the very mo- 
 ment that it threatens to break forth. It has gratified me to 
 
 * This memorial upon recruiting is found. " Correspondence of the Grand Duke 
 •Carl August and Goethe," part i., p. 4. 
 
CHARLES AUGUSTUS AND GOETHE. 179 
 
 witness the splendor of the royal city, the life, order, and 
 abundance, that would be nothing if thousands of men were 
 not ready to be sacrificed; the medley of men, carriages, 
 horses, artillery, and all the arrangements. All are mere pins 
 in the great clock-work, only puppets whose motion is received 
 from the great cylinder, Fredericus Rex, who indicates to 
 each one the melody they must play, according to one of the 
 thousand pins in the rotary beam." * 
 
 "You are right to compare the great man to the chief 
 cylinder in the machine of state," nodded the duke "He 
 rules and sets all in motion, and cares not whether the rabble 
 are suited or not. It has enraged me sometimes to hear the 
 fellows curse him, and yet I acted as if I heard them not. Let 
 us return to Weimar — mankind seems better there, Wolf." 
 
 " At any rate, more regardful of us than they are here, 
 duke. The greater the world the uglier the farce; no obscen- 
 ities and fooleries of the buffoon are more disgusting than the 
 characters of the great, mediocre and insignificant, all mingled 
 together. I prayed this morning for courage to hold out to 
 the end, and to hasten the consummation. I am grateful for 
 the benefit of the journey — but I pray the gods not to con- 
 duct themselves toward us as their image-man, for I should 
 swear to them eternal hatred." f 
 
 " Then you are ready to depart, Wolf?" 
 
 " Almost, dear Carl, or, if you will it, quite ready. A few 
 visits I would make, that the people shall not be too severe 
 upon me and cry out against my pride amd arrogance." 
 
 " Because they themselves are proud and supercilious, they 
 are bold enough to suppose Wolfgang Goethe is like them. I 
 hope you will not visit the very learned Herr Nicolai, the in- 
 sipid prosaist, the puffed-up rationalist, who believes that his 
 knowledge permits him to penetrate every thing, and who is 
 a veritable ass." 
 
 * Goethe's own words.— See Goethe's " Correspondence with Frau von Stein," port 
 i, p. 168. Riemer, u Communications about Goethe," part ii., p. 60. 
 
 t Goethe's own words.— See Goethe's " Correspondence with Frau von Stein, " part 
 I, p. 169. 
 
180 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 "No, I am not going to Nicolai, Eammler, or Engel, or, as 
 they should be named, the wise authors of Berlin. I shall 
 visit the artist Ohodowiecki, good Karschin, occasional poet- 
 ess, and the philosopher Mendelssohn. Then, if it pleases 
 you, we will set out this afternoon, shaking the sand of Ber- 
 lin from our feet.'' 
 
 " I shall prepare whilst you make your visits. Will yc 
 take my carriage? You know there is one from the royai 
 stables always at my service, which stands at the door." 
 
 " Beware ! they would shriek if I should drive to their doors 
 in a royal carriage. They would accuse me of throwing aside 
 the poet, and being only secretary of legation. I will go on 
 foot; it amuses me to push my way through the crowd, and 
 listen to the Berlin jargon." 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 GOETHE'S VISITS. 
 
 Taking leave of his ducal friend, Goethe betook himself to 
 the street, to commence his visits. Going first to Ohodo- 
 wiecki, the renowned delineator and engraver, whose fame had 
 already spread throughout Germany. When Goethe entered, 
 the artist was busy in his atelier, working upon the figures of 
 the characters in the "Mimic," the latest work of Professor 
 Engel. "Master," said he, smilingly, extending him his 
 hand, " I have come to thank you for many beautiful, happy 
 hours which I owe to you. You paint with the chisel and 
 poetize with the brush. An artist by God's grace." 
 
 " If the poet Goethe says that, there must be something in 
 it," replied Ohodowiecki, with a radiant face. "I have to 
 thank you for the most beautiful and best hours of my life, 
 and I am proud and delighted to have been able in the least 
 to return the pleasure. The only blissful tears among many 
 bitter ones that I have wept, were shed over the 'Sorrows of 
 
GOETHE'S VISITS. 181 
 
 Werther.' 'Gotz von Berlichingen' so inspired me that he 
 appeared to me in my dreams, and left me no peace until I 
 rose in the night to draw G6tz, as he sat talking with brother 
 Martin on the bench in the forest. Wait, I will show you 
 the drawing; you must see it." 
 
 Goethe examined it attentively, and expressed his pleasure 
 at the correctness and dramatical conception of the design, 
 and did not remark, or perhaps would not, that the artist was 
 busily occupied with crayon and paper. " How wonderfully 
 you have reproduced my * German Knight,"' cried Goethe, 
 after a long observation of it. " The middle ages entire, 
 proud and full of strength, are mirrored in this figure, and 
 if I had not written 'Gotz von Berlichingen, ' I would have 
 been inspired to it, perhaps, from this drawing. Oh! you 
 artists are to be envied. We need many thousand words to 
 express what a few lines represent, and a stroke suffices to 
 change a smiling face into a weeping one. How feeble is 
 language, and how mighty the pencil ! I wish I had the tal- 
 ent to be a painter!" 
 
 " And I," cried Chodowiecki, "would throw all my pencils, 
 brushes, and chisels to the devil, or sell him my soul, if I 
 could cope with the genius and intellect of the poet, Wolf- 
 gang Goethe. What a man! What a profile the gods have 
 given him ! There ! look — have you ever seen a man with 
 such a face?" He handed Goethe the drawing, which proved 
 to be a speaking profile-portrait of himself, dashed off with a 
 few strokes full of genius. 
 
 Goethe looked at it with the air of a critic. " It is true," 
 said he, perfectly serious, " there are not many such profiles, 
 but I am not of your opinion that the gods fashioned it. 
 Those sharp features look as if the joiner had cut them out of 
 oak, and they lead me to infer a very disagreeable character. 
 I naturally do not know who the picture represents, but I 
 must tell you, master, that this man could never please me, 
 although I could swear it is a speaking likeness. This sharp, 
 bowed nose has something impudent, self-sufficient in it. 
 
182 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 The brow is indeed high, which betokens thought, but the 
 retreating lines prove that the thoughts only commence, and 
 then lose themselves in a maze. The mouth, with its pouting 
 lips, has an insupportable expression of stupid good-nature 
 and sentimentality; and the well-defined, protruding chin 
 might belong to the robber-captain Cartouche. The great 
 wide-open eyes, with their affected passionate glances, prove 
 what a puffed-up dandy the man must be, who perhaps imagines 
 all the women in love with his face. No, no, I am still of the 
 opinion that the original could never please me, and if the 
 physiognomist Lavater should see it, he would say: 'That is 
 the portrait of a puffed-up, quaint, powerful genius, who im- 
 agines himself something important, and who is nothing ! The 
 likeness of a bombastic fellow, with an empty head behind the 
 pretentious brow, and meaningless phrases on the thick lips. ' " 
 
 "If Lavater says so, he is a fool and an ass," cried Chodo- 
 wiecki, furiously, " and he can hide himself in the remotest 
 •corner of the earth. Lichtenberg of Gottingen is quite right 
 -when he says that this empty-headed Lavater has made him' 
 self ridiculous throughout Germany with his wonderful physi- 
 ognomy of dogs' tails and his profiles of unknown pigtails. 
 If Lavater is really so narrow-minded as not to be able to dis- 
 tinguish a crow from an eagle, it is his own affair ; but he 
 shall never presume to look at this portrait, and you, too, are 
 not worthy, you scorner, that I should get angry with you. 
 The likeness is so beautiful that Jupiter himself would 
 be satisfied to have it imputed to him. It is so like, that you 
 need not pretend you do not know that it represents Wolf- 
 gang Goethe. As you insult it, and regard it with scorn and 
 contempt, I will destroy it." 
 
 "For mercy's sake do not tear it," cried Goethe, springing 
 toward Chodowiecki, and holding him fast with a firm grasp. 
 "My dear good man, do not tear it; it would be like splitting 
 my own head." 
 
 "Ah, ah!" shouted Chodowiecki, "you acknowledge the 
 likeness?" 
 
GOETHE'S VISITS. 183 
 
 " I do acknowledge it, with joy. " 
 
 " And will you admit that it is the head of a noble, talented 
 poet, a favorite of the Muses? Say yes, or I will tear it, and 
 you will have terrible pains in your head your life long!" ' 
 
 " Yes, yes ! all that you wish. I am capable of saying the 
 most nattering things of myself to save this beautiful design. 
 Give it to me, you curious fellow!" 
 
 "No," said Chodowiecki, earnestly, "I will not give it to 
 you. Such a portrait is not made to be put in a dusty port- 
 folio, or framed for the boudoir of your lady-love. All Ger- 
 many, all the world should enjoy it, and centuries later the 
 German women will still see Wolfgang Goethe as he looked in 
 his twenty-ninth year, and hang an engraving on the wall in 
 their parlor, and sighing and palpitating acknowledge — 
 'There never was but one such godlike youth, and there never 
 will be another. I wish that I had known him ; I wish he 
 had loved me!' So will they speak centuries later, for I will< 
 perpetuate this drawing in a steel engraving of my most beau- 
 tiful artistic work." * 
 
 "You are a splendid fellow, and I must embrace you, and 
 rejoice to be immortalized by you, for this portrait pleases me 
 exceedingly. I might well be proud that this head with the 
 rare profile is a counterpart of my own. Now we are good 
 friends. Before I say farewell, let me see the work at which 
 I just disturbed you upon entering." 
 
 Goethe was about to raise the cloth, when Chodowiecki 
 waved him back. "Do not look at it," said he, quickly; "I 
 dislike to appear as a mechanic before you, as I wish that you 
 should honor only the artist. We poor toilers are badly off, 
 as the old proverb is ever proving true with us, 'Art goes for 
 bread. ' We must be mechanics the chief part of our lives, 
 in order to have a few hours free, in which we are allowed to 
 be artists. I have to illustrate the most miserable works with 
 my engravings, to buy the time to pursue works of art." 
 
 * This engraving from the artist Chodowiecki still exists, and the author of this 
 work possesses a beautiful copy, which Ottilie von Goethe sent her. It is a bust in 
 profile, the most beautiful of his youth. 
 
184 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 " That is the interest, friend, which you pay the world for 
 the great capital which the gods confided to you. Believe 
 me, the artist Chodowiecki would have but a morsel to eat if 
 the mechanic Chodowiecki did not serve him a tempting 
 meal, paying the bill. Do not be vexed about it ; man must 
 have a trade to support him, as art is never remunerated. * I 
 hope the mechanic will be well paid, that the artist may 
 create beautiful and rare works for us. This is my farewell 
 visit to-day, friend. If you will hear a welcome from me very 
 soon, come to Weimar, and see how one honors the artists 
 there, and how well appreciated Chodowiecki is. " 
 
 Goethe embraced and kissed the artist, who regarded him, 
 his face radiant with joy, and would not be prevented from 
 accompanying him to the house door, as if he were a prince 
 or a king. "Now to Madame Karschin," said Goethe to 
 himself, as he hastened through the streets in that direction. 
 * The good woman has welcomed me with so many pretty 
 verses that I must make my acknowledgments, in spite of my 
 decision to keep the Berlin authors at a distance." 
 
 From Wilhelm Street, where Chodowiecki lived, to the tilt- 
 yard, was not far, and Goethe soon reached the old, 
 antiquated house where the poetess lived. After many ques- 
 tionings and inquiries at the lower stories and more splendid 
 apartments of the house, he found the abode of the poetess, 
 and climbed up the steep stairs to the slanting attic-room. 
 The dim light of a small window permitted Goethe to read, 
 upon a gray piece of paper, pasted upon the door, 'Anna 
 Louisa Karsch, German poetess.' He knocked modestly at 
 the door at first, then louder, and as the voices within never 
 ceased for a moment their animated conversation, he opened 
 it, and entered the obscure room. 
 
 " I will do it, sir," said the little woman sitting in the win- 
 dow-niche near a table to a young man standing near her. 
 " I will do it, though I must tell you album writing is very 
 common. But you must promise me to return here, and let 
 
 * Goethe's words.— See G. H. Lewes's " Goethe's Life and Writings," vol. i., p. 459. 
 
GOETHE'S VISITS. 185 
 
 me see what Herr Rammler writes, and tell me what he says 
 about me. These are my conditions. " 
 
 " Frau Karschin, I promise you, upon the word of honor of a 
 German youth, who can never lower himself to break his word. " 
 
 " Very well! then I will write." 
 
 There was perfect silence. The youth watched the little, 
 dry hand which guided the pen, with a devotional mien, and 
 Goethe with eager curiosity, who, unobserved, stood like a 
 suppliant at the door of the obscure little room, the shabby 
 furniture of which betrayed the narrow circumstances of the 
 German poetess. It harmonized with the occupant, a little, 
 bony, meagre figure, wearing a tight-fitting blue-flowered 
 chintz dress. Upon the gray hair, which, parted in the mid- 
 dle, encircled the low forehead, was a cap, which had lost its 
 whiteness, and was, therefore, more in harmony with the ruff 
 about her yellow, thin neck. Her sharp, angular features 
 were redeemed by large, dark eyes, flashing with marvellous 
 brilliancy from under the thick, gray eyebrows, and with 
 quick, penetrating glances she sometimes turned them to the 
 ceiling thoughtfully as she wrote. " There, sir, is my poem," 
 said she, laying down the pen. " Listen : 
 
 4 Govern your will; 
 If it hinders duty, 
 It fetters virtue; 
 Then envy beguiles 
 Into fault-finding.     
 
 "Oh, how beautiful!" cried the young man, enraptured. 
 * I thank you a thousand times for those glorious words, and 
 they shall henceforth be the guiding star of my existence. " 
 
 " Go to Professor Rammler, and then return and show me 
 what he writes, for I am convinced — . Oh, Heavens! there 
 is a stranger," she cried, as she discovered Goethe, who had 
 remained standing by the door. 
 
 "Yes, a stranger," said Goethe, smiling, and approaching, 
 
 as the happy possessor of the album withdrew — " a stranger 
 
 who would not leave Berlin without visiting the German 
 
 poetess." 
 
 13 
 
186 OLD FEITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 " And without verses in your album; is it not so? 1 have 
 become the fashion, and if I could only live by immortalizing 
 myself in your albums, I should be free from care. Now I 
 have divined it — you wish an autograph?" 
 
 " No ! only a good word, and a friendly shake of the hand, for 
 I possess a poem and a letter which the good Frau Karschin 
 sent me at Weimar some six months since, written by herself." 
 
 "Is it Goethe?" she cried, clasping her hands in astonish- 
 ment. " The poet Johann Wolfgang Goethe, the renowned 
 author of the work which — " 
 
 "Cost you many tears," broke in Goethe, laughing. "I 
 beg you spare me these phrases, which follow me upon my 
 journey as the Furies Orestes. I know that 'Werther' has 
 become the favorite of the reading public ; he has opened all 
 the tear-ducts and made all lovers of moonlight as soft as a 
 swaddling-cloth. I could punish myself for having written 
 'Werther.'" 
 
 Frau Karschin laughed aloud. " That is glorious ! You 
 please me ! You are a famous poet and a genius, for only 
 geniuses can revise and ridicule themselves. Welcome, Ger- 
 many's greatest poet, welcome to the attic of the poetess! 
 There is the good word which you would have, and here is 
 the hand. Did you think it worth while to visit poor 
 Karschin? I am rejoiced at it, for I see that they accused 
 you unjustly of arrogance and pride!" 
 
 "Do they accuse me of it?" asked Goethe, smiling. " Can 
 the Berlin poets and authors never forgive me that I live at a 
 court, and am honored with the favor of a prince?" 
 
 " They would willingly forgive you if they had the power to 
 push you one side, and take your place. They are angry with 
 you, because they envy you and are not accustomed to be es- 
 teemed. Our prince and ruler, as great a hero and king as 
 he otherwise is, cares little for German poetry, and for all he 
 would care, the Berlin authors might starve, one and all ; he 
 would trouble himself no more about them than the flies 
 dancing in the sunlight." 
 
GOETHE'S VISITS. 187 
 
 " The great king is still the same, then? He will never 
 know anything of German literature?" 
 
 "No! he declares that it is the language of barbarians and 
 bear-catchers; scolds about us, and despises us, and yet knows, 
 as little of us as the man in the moon. He adores his Voltaire. 
 Old Fritz knows the French poet by heart, but Lessing he- 
 knows nothing of. He abuses 'Gotz von Berlichingen, ' and 
 *Werther's Sorrows.' " 
 
 " Oh ! I know it all — I know the king's adjutant-general,, 
 von Siedlitz. I often dine with him, and read aloud my 
 poems to him, when he relates to me what the king says to* 
 enrage me. You must know when I am angry I speak in 
 verse. I accustomed myself to it during my unhappy mar- 
 riage with the tailor Karsch. When he scolded, I answered 
 in verse, and tried to turn my thoughts to other things, and 
 to make the most difficult rhymes. As he was always scold- 
 ing and quarrefling, I always spoke in rhyme." 
 
 And in this way you led a very poetical marriage?" smiled 
 Goethe. 
 
 "Yes, indeed, poetical," she said, and her large brilliant 
 eyes were dimmed. " If it is true that tears are the baptism 
 of poets, then I was baptized daily for twleve years, and ought 
 to be an extraordinary poetess." 
 
 "That you are, indeed," said Goethe, "who would dispute 
 it? You have given evidence of great poetical talent, and I 
 read your heroic poem upon the Great Frederick with real 
 delight." 
 
 "Do you know what he did?" she asked, bitterly. "I 
 turned to him, begging for assistance ; for who should a poet 
 turn to, but his God and his king? Moreover, he had prom- 
 ised it to me personally. " 
 
 "You have spoken with him, then, yourself?" asked 
 Goethe. 
 
 " Yes, eight years ago ; General von Siedlitz procured me 
 an audience. The king was very gracious, and among other 
 things, asked me about my life ; and as I explained to him* 
 
188 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 my poverty and want, he most kindly promised to help 
 me."* 
 
 " And did he not fulfil his promise?" 
 
 " No, had it been given to the least of the French writers 
 he would have kept it, but to a German poet it was not worth 
 while. What is a native poet to the great German king? 
 A phantom that he knows not, and believes not. As great as 
 he is, the king showed himself very small to me. I sang him 
 as a poetess and he bestowed a pittance upon me as one would 
 to a beggar in tatters by the wayside." 
 
 " Is it really true, upon your supplication — " 
 
 il Sent me two thalers! Yes, that is indeed true, and I see 
 by your smile that you know it, and know also that I returned 
 it to him. I had rather die with hunger than take a beggar's 
 penny. But let me relate to you what happened two 
 weeks since. I had borne patiently the affair of the two 
 thalers, and forgotten it. I am more comfortable now; 
 the booksellers pay me for my songs and poems very 
 well, and a number of patrons and friends, at whose head is 
 the Prince of Prussia, give me a small pension, from which I 
 can at least live — though poorly. One of my patrons sent me 
 a strip of land on the Spree not far from the Hercules Bridge, 
 where I would gladly build me a little house, at last to have a 
 sure abiding-place where I could retire — that would be a 
 refuge against all the troubles and sorrows of life. As I 
 thought it over, the old confidence and imperishable love for 
 the great king rose again within me, and as I esteemed him I 
 always hoped for the fulfilment of his promise. I applied to 
 him again, and begged him to do for me what he had granted 
 to so many cobblers and tailors, as the king gives building- 
 money to help those who will build. All the houses of the 
 Gensdarmen-markt are built by royal aid, and sometimes the 
 king designs the facades, as he did for the butcher Kuhn's 
 great house ; and sent him a design to ornament the frieze of 
 
 * This interview which Frau Karschin had with the king is found in " Anecdotes 
 and Traits of Character of Frederick the Great." voi. ii., p. 72. 
 
GOETHE'S VISITS. 189 
 
 ninety-nine sheeps' heads, only ninety-nine, for he said the 
 butcher himself was the one hundredth. The butcher remon- 
 strated, but he was obliged to keep them, if he would have 
 the building-money." 
 
 "Keally," cried Goethe, laughing, "the king is an inge- 
 nious and extraordinary man in every thing, and no one is like 
 him." 
 
 " No one is like him, and no one would have treated me as 
 he did. I addressed to him a poem, begging him with true 
 inspiration and emotion to let a German poetess find favor in 
 his sight — and that he would be for me a Maecenas, if I were 
 not a Horace. My heart bled with sorrow, that I must so beg 
 and pray, and my tears wet the paper upon which I indited 
 my begging, rhyming petition. How much money do you 
 think the great king sent me for my house? Think of the 
 smallest sum." 
 
 " If it was small, yet for building-money he would send 
 you at least two hundred thalers." 
 
 The poetess burst into a scornful laugh. " He sent me 
 three thalers ! The great Frederick sent me three thalers to 
 build a house!" 
 
 " What did you do? Did you take them?" 
 
 "Yes," she answered, proudly, " and I will leave them as a 
 legacy to my daughter, as an historical souvenir for succeed- 
 ing generations, who will relate the benevolence of the Ger- 
 man king for the German poetess. I sent the king a receipt 
 — I will read it to you. 
 
 1 His majesty commanded, 
 Instead of building-money, 
 To send me three thalers. 
 The order was exactly, 
 Promptly fulfilled. 
 I am indebted for thanks, 
 But for three thalers can 
 No joiner in Berlin 
 My coffin make; 
 
 Otherwise to-morrow I would order 
 Such a house without horror 
 Where worms feast, 
 And, feasting, quarrel 
 
190 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 Over the lean, care- worn 
 
 Old woman's remains 
 
 That the kinglet sigh away.' * 
 
 "Why do you not laugh?" said Frau Karschin, raising her 
 flashing eyes to Goethe, who sat looking down earnestly and 
 quietly before her. 
 
 "I cannot," he gently answered. "Your poem makes me 
 sad; it recalls the keen sorrow of a poet's existence, the oft- 
 repeated struggle between Ideality and Reality. The blessed 
 of the gods must humble themselves ; though they may raise 
 their heads to heaven, their feet must still rest upon earth; 
 and to find their way upon it, and walk humbly therein, they 
 must again lower their inspired heads." 
 
 "Oh, that makes me feel better," cried Karschin, with 
 tears in her eyes; "that is balsam for my wounds. You are 
 a great poet, Goethe, I feel it to be so. You are a great man, 
 for your heart is good and filled with pity. How unjustly 
 they call you cold and proud ! Only be a little more yielding, 
 and call upon the Berlin poets and writers. You can imagine 
 that the news of your arrival ran like wild-fire through the 
 town. Nicolai, Eammler, Engel, Mendelssohn, and all the 
 other distinguished gentlemen have stayed at home like 
 badgers in their kennels, watching for you, so as not to miss 
 your visit. At last they became desperate, and scolded 
 furiously over your arrogance and pride in thinking yourself 
 better than they. Why have you not called upon them?" 
 
 There was a loud knocking at the door, and the young man 
 with his album entered, almost breathless. "Here I am," 
 said he, " I came directly from Professor Eammler here, as I 
 promised you." 
 
 " You saw him, then? Has he written something for you?" 
 
 "Yes, I saw him, and he granted my request." 
 
 "And abused me, did he not, with his nose turned up? 
 You must know, Goethe, that Professor Rammler despises my 
 poems, because I am not so learned in Greek and Roman 
 
 * See " Life and Poems of Louisa Karschin," edited by her daughter. 
 
GOETHE'S VISITS. 191 
 
 mythology as he is. Now tell me, my young friend, what 
 did he say about me?" 
 
 " I promised you, upon my word of honor, to tell you every 
 thing, but I hope you will release me from the promise." 
 sighed the young man. 
 
 " No, that I will not. Much more, upon the strength of 
 your word of honor, I desire it. You promised, word for 
 word, to relate it to me." 
 
 " If it must be, then, let it be. I went at once to Professor 
 Rammler's. He asked me immediately if I had not been 
 here." 
 
 "Just as /asked you," laughed Karschin. 
 
 " I affirmed it, saying that you showed me his house. 
 Upon which he asked, 'Did she say any thing against me? 
 She is accustomed to do it before strangers, like all old 
 women.' He then turned over my album, and as he saw the 
 lines you wrote he reddened, and striking the book — 'I see it, 
 I knew she had said something about me. She tells every 
 stranger that I think she is censorious. What she has writ- 
 ten is aimed at me. ' Upon that he wrote some lines opposite 
 yours, shut the book, and handed it to me. I have not even 
 had the time to read them." 
 
 "Bead them now, quickly." 
 
 "'He who slanders and listens to slander, let him be pun- 
 ished. She may be hung by the tongue, and he by the 
 ears.'"* 
 
 "That is shameful — that is mean!" said Frau Karschin, 
 while Goethe re-read the cutting epigram. " That is just like 
 Rammler ; his tongue is like a two-edged sword for every one 
 but himself, and he fans his own glories, and does not know 
 that he is a fool. Frederick the Great himself called him so. 
 One of his generals called his attention to him, upon which 
 Frederick turned his horse, riding directly up to him, asking, 
 'Is this the distinguished Rammler?' 'Yes, your majesty, I 
 
 * This scene took place literally, and may be found in M Celebrated German Au- 
 thors," vol. ii., p. 340. 
 
192 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 am he,' the little prof essor proudly bowed. 'Yon are a fool!' 
 called out Frederick, very loud, and rode away, as all around 
 the 'Great Rammler' laughed and sneered. There are many 
 such stories. Shall I tell you how Lessing teased him?" 
 
 " No, dear woman, tell me nothing more. I perceive your 
 Berlin writers and poets are a malicious, contentious set of 
 people. I may well fear you, and shall he glad to escape un- 
 harmed. Think kindly of me, and have pity upon me ; if 
 the others are too severe, raise your dear hand and hold back 
 the scourge that it may not fall upon poor Wolfgang Goethe. 
 Adieu, dear Frau Karschin." 
 
 Goethe bowed, and hastened down into the street. " With 
 the authors and poets of Berlin I wish nothing more to do, 
 but with the philosophers I may be more fortunate, and with 
 them find the wisdom and forbearance which fail the 
 poets." 
 
 Goethe bent his steps to Spandauer Street, in which the 
 merchant and philosopher Moses Mendelssohn lived ; hastened 
 tip the stairs, and knocked, which was answered by an old 
 servant, to whom Goethe announced himself. The servant 
 disappeared, and the poet stood in the little, narrow corridor, 
 smilingly looking to the study-door, and waiting for the 
 " gates of wisdom" to open and let the worldling enter the 
 temple of philosophy. 
 
 The crooked little man, the great philosopher, Moses, son 
 of Mendelssohn, stood behind the door, turning over in his 
 mind whether he would receive Goethe or not. " Why should 
 I? The proud secretary of legation has already been in Ber- 
 lin eight days, and wishes to prove to me that he cares little 
 for Berlin philosophers. My noble friend, the great Lessing, 
 cannot abide 'Gotz von Berlichingen;' and Nicolai, Eammler, 
 and Engel are the bitter opponents, the very antipodes of the 
 rare genius and secretary of legation from Weimar. If he 
 wishes to see me, why did he come so late, so — " 
 
 "Herr Goethe is waiting — shall he enter?" asked the 
 servant. 
 
FAREWELL TO BERLIN. 193 
 
 The philosopher raised his head. "No," cried he, loudly. 
 "No! tell him you were mistaken. I am not at home." 
 
 The old servant looked quite frightened at his master — the 
 first time he had heard an untruth from him. " What shall 
 I say, sir?" 
 
 "Say no," cried Moses, very excited and ill-humored. 
 " Say that I am not at home — that I am out." 
 
 With a determined, defiant manner the philosopher seated 
 himself to work upon his new book, "Jerusalem," saying to 
 himself, " I am right to send him away ; he waited too long, 
 it is too late."* 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 FAREWELL TO BERLIN. 
 
 "What is the matter, my dear Wolf?" cried the duke, as 
 Goethe returned from his visits. " What mean those shadows 
 upon your brow? Have the cursed beaux-esprits in Berlin 
 annoyed and tortured you?" 
 
 "No, duke, I — " and suddenly stopping, he burst into a 
 loud, ringing laugh, and sprang about the room, bounding 
 up and down, shouting, "Hurrah! hurrah! Long live the 
 philosophers, vivat the philosophers!" 
 
 "They shall live — live — live," shouted the duke! 
 
 " Vivat the philosophers ! hurrah ! To the May-sports upon 
 the Blockberg they ride upon a little ass with golden horns — 
 with Pharisaical mien, praying with their eyes, 4 I thank 
 Thee, Lord, that I am a philosopher, that I am not as the 
 world's children, vain, proud, and arrogant.' Hey, good 
 Carl Augustus, to-day a great revelation has been made 
 known to me by a philosopher. Wisdom flowed from his 
 mouth. All the spiders in their gray, self-woven nets, whis- 
 
 * From Ludwig Tieck I learned this anecdote, and he assured me that Moses 
 Mendelssohn told it to him.— See " Goethe in Berlin, Leaves of Memory," p. 6.— The 
 Authoress. 
 
194 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 pered and sang in his corridor, 'We weave at the fountain of 
 life, we spin the web of time. ' The little mice crept out 
 from the corners, whispering, Hallelujah! Here lives the 
 great philosopher Moses, who has devoured wisdom, and is 
 unknowing of earthly vanities. Oh ! the mice and the spiders 
 waltz together upon the threshold of the great philosopher. 
 Hey, ha! a waltz we will dance!" 
 
 Goethe caught the duke with both arms around the waist, 
 and tore around in a giddy whirl, both laughing, both shriek- 
 ing. Wolfshund, the duke's dog, asleep in the corner, sprang 
 up howling and barking at their wild bounds and goat-like 
 springs, and joined the dancers. As Goethe felt the ribbon 
 which confined his cue give way, he shook wildly his curly, 
 powdered hair and it fell in mad confusion. Both he and the 
 duke now sank exhausted to the floor, panting and laughing. 
 
 "Heaven be praised, Wolf," said the duke, "the must has 
 once more fermented, and sprung a few of the hoops of 
 dignity?" 
 
 "Yes," answered Goethe, who suddenly assumed a grave, 
 serious mien, "the must has fermented, and I trust a fine 
 wine will clear itself from it." 
 
 " Can you not set off, Wolf?" asked the duke, springing 
 up. "Have you had sufficient of the Berliners?" 
 
 "I have done with them," replied Goethe, "not only with 
 the Berliners, but it may be with all the rest of humanity. 
 I feel, my duke, that the bloom of confidence, candor, and 
 self-sacrificing love fades daily; only for you, and the friend 
 whom I love, is there still attraction and f ragrancy. Oh ! you 
 dear ones, be charitable, and do not consent that they fade 
 for you. Let the goodness which I read in your eyes, my 
 dear Carl, and the sunny rays of friendship strengthen the 
 poor little blossom, that it does not entirely fade and wither 
 away !" With passionate earnestness he threw his arms around 
 the duke, pressing him to his bosom. 
 
 " Oh! Wolf, my dear Wolf, you have a child's heart and a 
 poet's soul. Are you faint-hearted and dispirited? Do you 
 
FAREWELL TO BERLIN. 195 
 
 not know that yon are the sun which brings forth the flowers 
 for us, and shines for us all? Let no clouds overshadow you, 
 Wolf! Let your fresh, youthful vigor, and divine brilliancy, 
 penetrate them. In the thick, sandy atmosphere of Berlin I 
 confess the sun itself loses its force and brightness! Come! 
 let us be off. Our steeds stamp with impatience." The 
 duke drew his friend from the room and joyfully they sprang 
 down the stairs to the carriage, the great dog following, howl- 
 ing and barking after them. "Forward, then, forward! 
 Blow, postilion, blow ! A gay little air ! Let it peal through 
 the streets, a farewell song! Blow, postilion, blow! and I 
 will moisten your throat at the gates with the thin, white 
 stuff, which you have the boldness to call beer." The pos- 
 tilion laughed for joy, and the German song resounded in 
 quivering tones — "Three riders rode out of the gate." He 
 blew so long and loudly, that the dog set up a mournful howl, 
 and amid the peals of the postilion, and the distressed cry of 
 Wolfshund, they drove through the long, hot streets of Ber- 
 lin, through the Leipsic Gate, and the suburbs with their 
 small, low houses. The wagon-wheels sank to the spokes in 
 the loose, yellow sand of the hill they soon mounted, and, ar- 
 riving at the top of which, the postilion stopped to let his 
 horses take breath, and turned to remind his aristocratic pas- 
 sengers that this was their last view of the city. 
 
 "And will be seen no more," repeated the duke. "Come, 
 let us take a farewell look at Berlin, Wolf!" and away they 
 sprang without waiting for the footman to descend, and waded 
 through the sand to a rising in the fallow fields. There they 
 stood, arm in arm, and viewed the town with its towers and 
 chimneys, houses, barracks, and palaces stretched at their feet. 
 A thick, gray, cloud of vapor and smoke hovered over it, and 
 veiled the horizon in dust and fog. " Farewell, Berlin, you 
 city of arrogance and conceit!" cried the duke, joyfully. " I 
 shake your dust from my feet, and strew the sand of your 
 fields over every souvenir of you in memory," and suiting the 
 action to his words, he tossed a handful of it in the air. 
 
196 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 "Farewell, Muses and Graces of sand and dust!" cried 
 Goethe, as his fiery eye flashed far out over the fog-enveloped 
 roofs. " Farewell, Berlin, void of nature and without verd- 
 ure ! the abode of poetic art, but not of poesy. You Babylon 
 of wisdom and philosophy, I have seen you with your painted 
 cheeks and coquettish smile, your voluptuous form and se- 
 ductive charms. You shall never ensnare me with your 
 deceitful beauty, and suck the marrow from my bones, or the 
 consciousness of pure humanity from my soul. Beautiful 
 may you be to enslaved intellects, but to the free, they turn 
 their backs to you and thrice strew ashes on your head. 
 Farewell, Berlin, may I never see you again!"* Goethe 
 stooped and threw a handful of sand in the air 
 
 The postilion, tired of standing in the burning sun, blew 
 loudly the air of the soldier's song: "Now, adieu, Louisa, 
 wipe your face, every ball does not hit." Mournfully the 
 melody sounded in the stillness, like accusing spirits who wept 
 the insult of the prince and the poet. 
 
 " Now, on to our dear Weimar, Wolf!" The carriage rolled 
 down the sandy hill, and Berlin disappeared to the travellers, 
 lost in dreamy thought. Slowly they advanced, in spite of 
 relays and fresh horses at every station. Night spread out 
 her starry mantle over the world, and the sleepers who rested 
 from the burdens and cares of the day. Goethe alone was 
 wakeful and vigilant. With his beautiful eyes, as brilliant as 
 fallen stars, uplifted to heaven, to God, his manly bosom 
 heaving with noble thoughts and glorious aspirations, he re- 
 viewed the past, and recalled with joy that he had accom- 
 plished much and well. He peered into the future, and 
 promised himself to do more and better. "Yes, I will," 
 whispered he softly, pointing to the stars ; " so high as pos- 
 
 * Goethe, in fact, never visited Berlin again,though he was often invited there, par- 
 ticularly when the new theatre was opened, with a poetic prologue written by him- 
 self. They inaugurated the festivity with Goethe's "Iphigenia," the first representa- 
 tion, and Prince Radzwill urgently invited the poet, through Count Bruhl, to visit 
 Berlin at this time, and reside in his palace. But Goethe refused; he was seventy- 
 two years old (1826), and excused himself on account of his age. 
 
FAREWELL TO BERLIN. 19? 
 
 sible shall the pyramid of my being rise. To that I will con- 
 stantly bend my thoughts, never forgetting it, for I dare not 
 tarry; with the years already on my head, fate may arrest my 
 steps, and the tower of Babylon remain unfinished. At 
 least they must acknowledge the edifice was boldly designed, 
 and if I live, God willing, it shall rise." 
 
book in. 
 
 STORM AND PRESSURE. 
 
 CHAPTEE XIX. 
 
 THE KING AND THE AUSTRIAN DIPLOMAT. 
 
 Frederick commenced the campaign against the house of 
 Hapsburg with all the energy and bold courage of former 
 days. The diplomats had once more been permitted to seek 
 the arts of negotiation, and, these having failed, the king ad' 
 vanced rapidly, and entered Bohemia with his advance-guard. 
 The imperial army, informed of the approach of the enemy, 
 retired hurriedly to their intrenchments at Koniggratz, be- 
 yond the Elbe, without a decisive battle. In the skirmishes 
 at the outposts the Prussians had been victorious. On the 
 opposite shore of the Elbe, at Welsdorf , the king took up his 
 headquarters. Why did he not pursue his bold run of vic- 
 tory? Why did he not surprise the imperial army, which he 
 knew was scattered, and not in a position to resist the 
 strength of the Prussian forces? Moreover, the second col- 
 umn of the Prussian army, under the command of Prince 
 Henry, had also entered Bohemia, and fortified a camp near 
 Eimburg, having united with the Saxon allies, which caused 
 the imperialists under Field-Marshal Loudon to seek pro- 
 tection beyond the Iser, near Munchengratz and Yung- 
 bunzlau. Why did the king then stop in the midst of his 
 victorious career? He had advanced to the field with- his 
 fresh, youthful fire, a shining example to all. He was always 
 mounted, shunning no danger, but taking part in the hard- 
 
THE KING AND THE AUSTRIAN DIPLOMAT. 199 
 
 ships and fatigue incident to the changing life of war ; even 
 showing himself personally active at the discovery of f oraging- 
 parties. Why did he suddenly hesitate and lie inactive in 
 his camp? Why did he not summon his generals and staff- 
 officers to his quarters, instead of his Minister von Herzberg? 
 Every one asked himself the question, and every one answered 
 it differently. — Some said, "Because the Empress of Russia 
 had raised objections to this war of German brothers;" others, 
 that " the King of the French had offered to settle the quar- 
 rel as intermediator." A third said, the "empress-queen, 
 Maria Theresa, was terrified at the rapid advance of the Prus- 
 sians, and had immediately commenced negotiations for 
 peace. " 
 
 While the wise politicians of Germany and all Europe re- 
 flected and pondered, Frederick tarried quietly in his peasant- 
 house, in which he had taken up his quarters, and which had 
 been arranged very comfortably with carpets, camp-stools, 
 and curtains. He sat in his cabinet upon the high, leather- 
 covered arm-chair, which had been brought for him from the 
 neighboring parsonage. Alkmene lay upon his knee, and 
 Diana at his feet. His countenance was pale, and betrayed 
 fatigue, but his eye beamed with undimmed brilliancy, and 
 around his mouth played an ironical smile. " Well, so mat- 
 ters stand; therefore, I have summoned you to Welsdorf," 
 said Frederick to his minister, Von Herzberg. " The empress- 
 queen is, above all things, a most tender mother. She is 
 fearfully anxious, now that the dear young Emperor Joseph 
 has left for the army, and will be exposed to the dangers of 
 war. My good friends in Vienna inform me that my entrance 
 into Bohemia created a sensation at the brilliant capital, and 
 had so much alarmed the empress-queen, that she was 
 seriously thinking of negotiating for peace. As I learned 
 this from a reliable source, I halted and encamped, that the 
 empress should know where to find me, and sent to summon 
 you immediately. I had not been here three days, when the 
 empress's ambassador, Baron von Thugut, appeared to make 
 
200 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 offers, and consult about an armistice of two weeks. T made 
 known my conditions, and promised the empress, through her 
 negotiator, that I would so calculate my movements that her 
 majesty would have nothing to fear for her blood and her 
 cherished emperor.* Voila, mon cher ministre, you know all 
 now. If the Austrian diplomat comes a second time, you can 
 negotiate with him." 
 
 "Is your majesty also inclined to peace?" asked Herzberg. 
 
 The king shrugged his shoulders. " When it can be ar- 
 ranged with honor, yes," said he. "I will acknowledge, 
 Herzberg, to you, the campaign is hard for me. The old 
 fellow of sixty-eight feels the burden of life, and would gladly 
 rest quietly, and enjoy the last few years as philosopher and 
 writer instead of soldier." 
 
 "Your majesty has yet many years to live, God willing," 
 cried Herzberg. " It would be a great misfortune to Prussia 
 if she could not yet owe to her great king a long and happy 
 reign. " 
 
 " Hem!" replied the king, " there are in Prussia very many 
 who think otherwise, and wish me to the devil. But I have 
 no intention of seeking monsieur so soon, for there are suf- 
 ficient devilish deeds to endure in this earthly vale of sorrow to 
 prepare for one a very decent purgatory, and give him here- 
 after well-founded hopes of heaven. Therefore I count upon 
 remaining here below a while, and to knead with you this 
 leaven of life that may yield to my subjects an eatable bread. 
 You must help me, Herzberg, when I am the baker, to pro- 
 vide the flour for my people; you must be the associate to 
 knead the bread. In order that the flour should not fail, and 
 the bread give out, it may be necessary, if possible, to make 
 peace." 
 
 " "Will your majesty be so gracious as to inform me what 
 steps I may take, and upon what conditions?" 
 
 " Take this paper," said the king, extending a written doc- 
 ument to Herzberg. " I have therein expressed my wishes, 
 
 * The king's words.— See " Prussia, Frederick the Great, 11 vol. iv M p. 102. 
 
i'HE KING AND THE AUSTRIAN DIPLOMAT. 201 
 
 and you can act accordingly. I am prepared for peace upon 
 any terms which can be made with honor, and which do not 
 frustrate the aim I have in view. You well know that this 
 aim is the security of Germany against Austria's ambitious 
 love of territorial aggrandizement! I cannot and I will not 
 suffer that the house of Hapsburg should strive for unjust 
 possession in Germany, and appropriate Bavaria to herself 
 while a lawful heir exists. I well know that I play the role 
 of Don Quixote, and am about to fight for the rights of Ger- 
 many as the Chevalier de la Mancha fought for his Dulcinea 
 del Toboso. Mais, que voulez-vous, it is necessary for my 
 fame and repose that I enter the arena once more against 
 Austria, to prove to her that I exist. I take this step on ac- 
 count of the prestige I have gained in the German empire, 
 and which I should lose if I had not faced Austria in this 
 Bavarian contest. And besides, it is agreeable to me to ac- 
 custom my successor to the thunder of cannon, and witness 
 his bearing on the field of battle." 
 
 " He will certainly do honor to the heroic race of Hohen- 
 zollern," answered Herzberg, bowing. 
 
 A sudden flash from the king's fiery eyes met the calm pale 
 face of Herzberg. "Mere words and flattery, which prove 
 that you are not satisfied, Herzberg ! Nay, nay, do not deny 
 it; you do not like that I should tarry and treat, and set the 
 pen in motion instead of the sword. You are a man of deeds, 
 and if you had had your way, I should have already won a 
 decisive battle, and be on the road to Vienna to besiege the 
 empress in her citadel, and dictate an humiliating peace to 
 her." 
 
 " Your majesty, I can assure you — " 
 
 "Well, well, do not quarrel!" interrupted the king; "do 
 you suppose I cannot read your honest and obstinate face? 
 Do you suppose I did not mean what I said? Acknowledge 
 that I am right! confess it, I command you!" 
 
 " If your majesty commands it, then I will acknowledge it. 
 Yes, I did wish that your majesty had not empowered Baron 
 14 
 
202 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA- 
 
 von Thugut to return for further negotiations. It would 
 have been well if your majesty had marched victorious to 
 Vienna, to let the proud Hapsburgers see for once that Fred- 
 erick of Prussia does not stand behind them, but at their side; 
 that he has created a new order of things; that the old, 
 mouldy, rotten statutes of the imperial sovereignty have fallen 
 in the dust before Frederick the Great; that Germany must 
 be newly mapped out, in order to give room near the old man 
 Austria for young Prussia. Yes, your majesty, I could have 
 wished that you had even been less generous, less noble toward 
 the supercilious, insolent enemy, and have accepted no con- 
 ditions but those of 'equality for Prussia with Austria in the 
 German empire!' " 
 
 "My dear sir, I am truly astonished at the vigor with 
 which you express yourself; I am very glad to find you so en« 
 thusiastic," said Frederick, nodding to his minister; "but 
 listen — I will confide to you that which I do not wish you to 
 repeat : I am no longer, to my regret, what you so flatteringly 
 call me, 'Frederick the Great,' but only 'Old Fritz.' Do you 
 understand me? the latter is a deplorable, worn-out soldier, 
 who no longer feels power or vigor. The lines of Boileau 
 often recur to me on mounting my horse : 
 
 ' Unfortunate one, leave thy steed growing old in peace, 
 For fear, that, panting and suddenly out of breath, 
 In falling, he may not leave his master upon the arena ! r 
 
 It is the misery of life that man will grow old, and that the 
 body, when worn and weary, will even subdue the spirit, and 
 force her to fold her wings and suffer. I did not realize that 
 it had gone so far with me, and I imagined that the winged 
 soul could raise the old, decayed body. Therefore I risked, 
 in spite of my lazy old age, to undertake this war, for I rec- 
 ognized it as a holy duty to enter into it, for the honor and 
 justice of our country, and prove to the Emperor of Germany 
 that he could not manage and rule at his will in the German 
 empire. I long not for the honor of new laurels, but I should 
 be satisfied, as father of my subjects, to gain a civil crown. 
 
THE KING AND THE AUSTRIAN DIPLOMAT. 203 
 
 There you have my creed. I have as sincerely confessed to 
 you as my respectable cousin, the empress-queen, to her con- 
 fessor; only I did not fall upon my knees to you, and you do 
 not, as the said confessor, betray me to the Holy Father at 
 Rome." 
 
 " Your majesty well knows that every word which you have 
 the grace to confide to me, is engraved upon my inmost soul, 
 and that no power upon earth could force me to reveal it." 
 
 " I know that you are a true and zealous servant of your 
 king and country," said Frederick. "Once more I say to 
 you, other than an honorable peace I will not make; and if 
 the empress-queen does not accept the abandonment of 
 Bavaria as the basis of peace, then I must conquer my aver- 
 sion to war, and the sword must arrange what the pen has 
 failed to do. And novt , passons ladessus! Until Thugut ar- 
 rives, let us speak of other things. I have been tolerably 
 industrious, and have improved the leisure of camp-life as 
 much as possible. I have written a panegyric upon Voltaire, 
 and when it is revised and corrected you shall arrange an 
 anniversary in memoriam, at the Berlin Academy, and read 
 my eulogy." 
 
 " All Germany and all Europe will be surprised at the mag- 
 nanimity of the royal mind which could occupy itself in the 
 camp with the muse, and erect an imperishable monument to 
 the man who witnessed such ingratitude and baseness to his 
 benefactor and protector." 
 
 " Vous allez trop vite, mon cherj vraiment, trop vite," cried 
 Frederick, ardently. "It is true Voltaire was a miserable 
 fellow, but he was a great poet. He returned meanness and 
 ingratitude to me for the many kindnesses I showed to him, 
 for I treated him more like a friend than a king. Voltaire 
 was my benefactor, in so far that I owed to him the most 
 agreeable and elevating hours of my youth. In memory of 
 these hours I have written this eulogy. It is not worthy of 
 particular mention, and the Academie Francaise will doubt- 
 less severely criticise my knowledge of their language. But it 
 
204 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 is impossible to write well, one moment in camp and another 
 on the march. If it is unworthy of him whom it was in- 
 tended to celebrate, I have at least availed myself of the free- 
 dom of the pen, and will cause to be publicly read in Berlin 
 what one dares not whisper in Paris." * 
 
 "I shall be most happy to be the instrument to make 
 known this generous expression of your majesty's good-will," 
 remarked Herzberg, bowing. 
 
 Frederick smiled, adding : " But with the other work which 
 I have commenced, you are not quite satisfied. You are such 
 an enthusiastic German, that you presume to assert that the 
 intolerable German jargon is a beautiful and expressive lan- 
 guage!" 
 
 "And I abide by this decision, your majesty," zealously 
 cried Herzberg. " The German language is euphonious, and 
 prolific in ideas, and it is well capable of rivalling in brevity 
 and clearness those of the ancients." 
 
 " That you have already asserted, and I have contested it, 
 and again I contest it to-day. Do not trouble me with your 
 German language. It will only deserve notice when great 
 poets, distinguished orators, and admirable historians, have 
 given it their attention and corrected it, freeing it from such 
 disgusting and effeminate phrases as now disfigure it, and 
 cause one to use a mass of words to express a few ideas. At 
 present it is only an accumulation of different dialects, which 
 every division of the German empire thinks to speak the best, 
 and of which twenty thousand can scarcely understand what 
 the other twenty thousand are saying!" f 
 
 " Sire," cried Herzberg, with vehemence, " should a German 
 king thus speak of his native tongue, at the same time that he 
 takes the field to vindicate the honor of Germany, and sub- 
 mits to all the miseries and hardships of war? Your majesty 
 cannot be in earnest, to despise our beautiful language." 
 
 *The king's own words.— "Posthumous Works," vol. xv., p. 109. This eulogy 
 upon Voltaire, which the king wrote in camp, Herzberg read, in the November fol- 
 lowing, before the Academy. 
 
 t The king's own words.— See " Posthumous Works," vol. xv. 
 
THE KING AND THE AUSTRIAN DIPLOMAT. 205 
 
 " I do not despise it ; I only say that it mnst be reformed, 
 and shorn of its excrescences. Until then we must use the 
 French, which is to-day the language of the world, and in 
 which one can render all the master-works of the Greeks and 
 the Latins, with the same versatility, delicacy, and subtlety, 
 as the original. You pretend that one can well read Tacitus in 
 a German translation, but I do not think the language cap- 
 able of rendering the Latin authors with the same brevity as 
 the French. " 
 
 " Sire, to my joy, I can give you proof to the contrary. 
 A Berlin savant, Conrector Moritz, at my request, has trans- 
 lated a few chapters of the fourteenth book of the 'Annals of 
 Tacitus, ' word for word, most faithfully into German. He 
 has written it in two columns, the translation at the side of 
 the original. I have taken the liberty to bring this work with 
 me, and you will see how exactly, and with what brevity, 
 Latin authors can be rendered into German, and that there 
 are young learned men who have seized the spirit of our lan- 
 guage, and know how to use it with grace and skill." 
 
 " Indeed, give it to me," cried the king, zealously. " I am 
 truly curious to admire the German linguist's work who has 
 so boldly undertaken to translate Tacitus." 
 
 "Sire," said Herzberg, raising his eyes knowingly, with 
 a mild, imploring expression to the king's face — " sire, I join 
 a request with this translation." 
 
 " What is it? I am very curious about a petition from you, 
 it is so seldom that you proffer one." 
 
 " Your majesty, my request concerns the translator of this 
 very chapter of Tacitus. He is Conrector Moritz, attached 
 to the Gray Cloister in Berlin — an unusually gifted young 
 man, who has undoubtedly a brilliant future before him. He 
 has already written many eminent works. The Director 
 Gedicke recommended him to me as a most distinguished, 
 scholarly person, and I have learned to know and appreciate 
 the young man by this means." 
 
 "I see it," nodded the king. "You speak of him with 
 
206 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 great enthusiasm, and as what you so warmly recommend Is 
 generally able and well qualified, I begin to be interested in 
 this Herr Moritz. When I return to Berlin — and Heaven 
 grant that it may be soon ! — I will at once empower you to 
 present this luminary. Are you satisfied?" 
 
 " Sire, dare I ask still more? I would beg your majesty to 
 grant this young man an audience at once." 
 
 " How, at once ! Is this phoenix here, who so interests my 
 Minister Herzberg? Where is he from, and what does he 
 wish?" 
 
 " He is from Berlin ; I met him making the journey on 
 foot. He sat upon a stone, by the wayside, eating a piece of 
 bread, with a glowing face, and so absorbed talking to himself 
 in Latin that he heard not the creaking of my carriage 
 through the sand. I recognized him immediately, and called 
 him by name. He turned, perfectly unembarrassed and not 
 at all ashamed to have been discovered in such an humble and 
 poor position." 
 
 "That is to say, he is a good comedian," said the king. 
 " He knew that you would drive past there, and placed himself 
 expressly to call your attention to him." 
 
 "I beg pardon, sire; Conrector Moritz could not have 
 known that I would take this journey. You will recollect 
 that the courier arrived at midnight with your majesty's 
 commands, and two hours later I was on the road, and have 
 since travelled day and night. As I met the young man only 
 five miles from this place, he must have set out many daya 
 before I thought of leaving Berlin." 
 
 " It is true," said the king, " it was a false suspicion. You 
 invited him into your carriage, did you not?" 
 
 " I did very naturally, sire, as he told me he was going to 
 beg an audience of your majesty. At first he refused de- 
 cidedly, as he wished to travel on foot, like the pilgrims to 
 the pope at Rome." 
 
 "An original, a truly original genius," cried the king. 
 
 "He is so indeed, and is so called by all his friends." 
 
THE KING AND THE AUSTRIAN DIPLOMAT. 207 
 
 " Has he any friends?" asked the king, with an incredu- 
 lous smile. 
 
 " Yes, sire, many warm and sympathizing friends, who are 
 much attached to him, and, on account of his distinguished 
 and brilliant qualities, are willing to indulge his peculiarities." 
 
 " Herzberg, you are charmed, and speak of this man as a 
 young girl in love!" 
 
 " Sire, if I were a young girl, I should certainly fall in love 
 with this Moritz, for he is handsome." 
 
 " Diable ! I begin to fear this subject. You say he is hand- 
 some, learned, wise, and good, although he belongs to the 
 airy, puffed-up Berliners. Did you let Herr Moritz wander 
 on in his pilgrimage?" 
 
 " No, sire, I persuaded him at last to accept a seat in my 
 carriage, by explaining to him that your majesty might soon 
 leave Welsdorf , and he would run the risk of not arriving in 
 season. Upon no condition would he get inside, but climbed 
 up behind, for, said he, with a firm, decided manner, 'I go 
 to the king as a beggar, not as a distinguished gentleman.' n 
 
 "Indeed it is an original," the king murmured to himself. 
 "Do you know what the man wants?" he asked aloud. 
 
 "No, your majesty; he said that his business concerned the 
 happiness of two human beings, and that he could only open 
 his heart to his God and his king." 
 
 " Where is your protege ? " 
 
 " He stands outside, and it is my humble request that your 
 majesty will grant him an audience, and permit me to call 
 him." 
 
 " It is granted, and — " 
 
 Just at that moment the door opened, and the footman 
 announced that the private secretary of his highness Prince 
 von Galitzin had arrived, and most respectfully begged an 
 audience. 
 
 " It is he — it is the baron," said the king. " Tell your pro- 
 tege he must wait, and come again. Bid the Prince von 
 Galitzin enter." 
 
208 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 As the Minister von Herzberg withdrew, the Baron von 
 Thugut appeared, the extraordinary and secret ambassador of 
 the Empress Maria Theresa. 
 
 "Well, Herr Baron, you are already returned," said the 
 king, as he scarcely nodded to the profoundly respectful bows 
 of the ambassador. " I infer, therefore, that your instructions 
 are not from the empress, but from the co-regent, the Em- 
 peror Joseph, who has betaken himself to the Austrian camp." 
 
 "Sire," answered Thugut, laconically, "I have driven day 
 .and night, and have received my instructions directly from 
 the empress." 
 
 The king slowly shook his head, and an imperceptible 
 smile played around his lips. 
 
 "Does the young emperor approve of these instructions?" 
 
 "Sire, his majesty, the emperor, is only the co-regent," 
 answered Thugut, hastily. "It is not therefore necessary 
 that my sovereign should make her decisions dependent upon 
 her son's concordance." 
 
 "The empress will negotiate for peace," said the king to 
 himself, " but the emperor desires to win laurels in the war, 
 and will try to cut off the negotiations of his mother by a 
 coup de main. One must be on his guard !" 
 
 Just then the door opened and Herzberg returned. 
 
 "You perceive I expected you, Baron von Thugut," said 
 the king, " and I ordered here my minister of state, Herr von 
 Herzberg. This is the Baron von Thugut, my dear minister, 
 the ambassador of the empress-queen, who carries in his 
 pocket peace or war, as it may be." 
 
 " Sire, I must protest against being so important a person- 
 age, as peace and war alone depend upon your majesty. It 
 alone depends upon the lofty King of Prussia whether he will 
 give peace and tranquillity to Germany, or suffer the guilt of 
 permitting the bloody scourge of civil war again to tear in 
 pieces the unhappy German nation." 
 
 "That sounds very sentimental," cried the king, smiling. 
 " The Baron von Thugut will appeal to my heart, when we 
 
THE KING AND THE AUSTRIAN DIPLOMAT. 209 
 
 have only to do with the head. Austria wishes to be the head 
 of Germany, and as such would devour one German state 
 after another, as a very palatable morsel. But if you will 
 be the head, Monsieur le Baron, you cannot represent the 
 stomach also, for, as I have been told, it only exists in 
 those soft animals of the sea whose head is in their 
 stomach, and which think and digest at the same time. Aus- 
 tria does not belong to this class, but has rather a very hard 
 and impenetrable shell. We cannot let her devour as stomach 
 what as the head she has chosen as booty. That the electorate 
 of Bavaria is not to be devoured, is the necessary and funda- 
 mental preliminary upon which the temple of peace may be 
 erected. If you, or rather the empress-queen, agree to it, the 
 negotiations can be concluded by you two gentlemen. But if 
 you think to erect a temple of peace upon any other basis, 
 your propositions will be in vain. I have not taken the field 
 to make conquests, but to protect the rights of a German 
 prince, and not suffer others to appropriate a German state. 
 I know, as you have said, that war is a bloody scourge for 
 the nation ; but, sir, we will not look at it in a sentimental 
 light, and talk of civil war, when Austria herself compels us 
 to take the field. Or, perhaps, you imagine to prove to my 
 good Pomeranians, Markers, and my other German states, 
 that the Croatians, Pandurians, Hungarians, "VVallachians, 
 Italians, and Polanders, are our German brothers, which im- 
 perial Austria opposes to us. I think this brotherhood may 
 be traced to our common ancestor, Adam, and in this sense 
 all wars are indeed civil wars. In any case war is a scourge 
 for man, and I am convinced that the empress-queen would 
 just as willingly spare her Croatians, Pandurians, Wal- 
 lachians, and Galicians, as I all my German subjects col- 
 lectively." 
 
 "Also your majesty's Polish subjects, as may be expected," 
 added Baron von Thugut. 
 
 "My Polish subjects are the minimum portion, and are 
 about in proportion to the German population as in imperial 
 
210 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 Austria the German is to the foreign. But enough of this ; 
 if I do not recognize this as a civil war, it is indeed a great 
 misfortune. I would do every thing to avoid it — every thing 
 compatible with the honor and glory of my house, as well as 
 that of Germany in general. Therefore let us know the views 
 of the empress-queen!" 
 
 " Sire," answered Von Thugut, as he slowly untied and un- 
 folded the documents, " I beg permission to read aloud to 
 your majesty the acts relative to these points." 
 
 "No, baron," answered the king quickly, "the more minute 
 details give to my minister ; I wish only the contents in brief. " 
 
 " At your majesty's command. The empress-queen declares 
 herself ready to renounce the concluded treaty of inheritance 
 to the succession of Bavaria at the death of Elector Charles 
 Theodore ; also to give up the district seized, if Prussia will 
 promise to resign the succession of the Margraves of Anspach 
 and Baireuth, and let them remain independent principal- 
 ities, governed by self-dependent sovereigns." 
 
 " That means, that Austria, who will unjustly aggrandize 
 herself by Bavaria, will deprive Prussia of a lawful inheri- 
 tance!" cried the king, his eyes flashing anger. "I will not 
 heed the after -cause, but I wish to satisfactorily understand 
 the first part of the proposition, that Austria will cede her 
 pretensions to Bavaria." 
 
 "Sire, upon conditions only which are sufficient for the 
 honor, the wishes, and necessities of my lofty mistress." 
 
 "You hear, my dear Herzberg," said the king, smiling, 
 and turning to his minister, " c'est tout comme chez nous. It 
 will now be your task to find out these conditions, which too 
 closely affect the honor of one or the other. For this purpose 
 you will find the adjacent Cloister Braunau more convenient 
 than my poor cabin. At the conferences of diplomats much 
 time is consumed, while we military people have little time 
 to spare. I shall move on with my army." 
 
 "How, then! will your majesty break up here?" cried 
 Thugut, with evident surprise. 
 
THE KING AND THE AUSTRIAN DIPLOMAT. 211 
 
 The king smiled. " Yes, I shall advance, as my remaining 
 might be construed equal to a retreat. The arts of diplomacy 
 may drag on until the imperialists have assembled all their 
 foreign subjects to the so-called civil war. Then hasten the 
 negotiations, Baron von Thugut, for every day of diplomatic 
 peace is one day more of foraging war, and I know not that 
 you count the Bohemians in the German brotherhood, to 
 whom the calamity of war is ruinous. You have now to 
 deal with the Baron von Thugut, my dear Herzberg, and I 
 hope the baron will accept some diplomatic campaigns with 
 you in Cloister Braumau." 
 
 " Sire, I accept, and if your majesty will dismiss me, I will 
 go at once to the cloister," answered Baron von Thugut, 
 whose manner had become graver and more serious since the 
 king's announcement of the intended advance. 
 
 " You are at liberty to withdraw. The good and hospitable 
 monks have already been apprised of your arrival by an ex- 
 press courier, and have doubtless a good supper and a soft bed 
 awaiting you. " 
 
 " Had your majesty the grace to be convinced of my re- 
 turn?" asked Thugut. 
 
 " I was convinced of the tender heart of the empress- 
 queen, and that she would graciously try once more, in her 
 Christian mercy, to convert such an old barbarian and heretic 
 as I am. Go now to the cloister, and when I pass by in the 
 morning, with my army, I will not fail to have them play a 
 pious air for the edification of the diplomats — such as, 'My 
 soul, like the young deer, cries unto Thee,' or, 'Oh, master, 
 I am thy old dog, ' or some such heavenly song to excite the 
 diplomats to pious thoughts, and therewith I commend you to 
 God's care, Baron von Thugut." 
 
 The king charged Herr von Herzberg to play the role of 
 grand-chamberlain, and accompany the ambassador to his 
 carriage, smiling, and slightly nodding a farewell. 
 
 The baron was on the point of leaving, when the king 
 called to him. 
 
212 OLD FEITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 "Had your majesty the grace to call me?" asked Thugut, 
 hastily turning. 
 
 "Yes!" answered Frederick, smiling, and pointing to the 
 string which had served to bind the baron's papers. "You 
 have forgotten something, my lord, and I do not like to en- 
 rich myself with others' property." * 
 
 Baron von Thugut took this last well-aimed stab of his 
 royal opponent somewhat embarrassed, and hastened to pick 
 up the string, and withdraw. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE KIKG AND THE LOVER. 
 
 The king smiled, glancing at the retreating figure of the 
 baron, and approached the window to peep through the little 
 green glass panes to see him as he passed by. 
 
 "A sly fox," said he, smiling, "but I will prove to him 
 that we understand fox-hunting, and are not deceived by 
 cunning feints." 
 
 "Will your majesty really break up to-day?" asked Yon 
 Herzberg, upon returning. 
 
 " Yes, my dear minister. That is to say, I do not wish to, 
 but I must, in order to give the negotiations for peace a war- 
 like character. The enemy asks for delay to finish their prep- 
 arations for war — not peace. The negotiations for the latter 
 emanate from the empress, but the conditions concerning 
 Anspach come from the emperor. It is the Eris-apple, which 
 lie casts upon the table, by which his imperial mother and I 
 would gladly smoke the pipe of peace. It is incumbent upon 
 you, Herzberg, to negotiate for peace, while I pick up the 
 apple and balance it a little upon the point of my sword. I 
 shall leave early to-morrow, but I would speak with you be- 
 fore I set out. You must be weary with the journey, so rest 
 
 * Historical. The king's words.— See Hormayr. 
 
THE KING AND THE LOVER. 213 
 
 awhile now, then dine with me, and afterward go to the 
 conference. " 
 
 " Sire, will yon not receive my protege, Oonrector Moritz?" 
 
 " Did yon not say that he begged for a secret audience?" 
 
 " Yes, sire, he has for this purpose travelled the long dis- 
 tance from Berlin, and I assure your majesty, upon my word 
 of honor, that I have not the least suspicion what his petition 
 may be." 
 
 " Eli Men, say to your protege that I grant him the sought- 
 for interview on your account, Herzberg. You are such a 
 curious fellow — you are always petitioning for others instead 
 of yourself, and the benefits which you ought to receive go to 
 them. Let Moritz enter, and then try to sleep a little, that 
 you may be wide awake to confer with Baron von Thugut." 
 
 Minister von Herzberg withdrew, and immediately the pale, 
 earnest face of Conrector Philip Moritz appeared in the royal 
 presence. 
 
 The king regarded him with a prolonged and searching 
 glance, the noble, resolute face of whom was pallid with deep 
 grief, but from whose eyes there beamed courageous energy. 
 " Are you the translator of the chapters from Tacitus, which 
 my Minister Herzberg handed me?" asked the king, after a 
 pause. 
 
 "Yes, sire," gently answered Moritz. 
 
 "I am told that it is ably done," continued his majesty, 
 still attentively observing him. " You will acknowledge that 
 it is exceedingly difficult to render the concise style of Tacitus 
 into the prolix, long-winded German?" 
 
 " Pardon me, sire," replied Moritz, whose youthful impetu- 
 osity could with difficulty be diverted from the real object of 
 his pilgrimage. " Our language is by no means long-winded, 
 and there is no difficulty in translating Latin authors into 
 German, which equals any living tongue in beauty and 
 sonorousness, and surpasses them all in depth of thought, 
 power, and poesy." 
 
 " Diable! " cried the king, smiling; "you speak like an in- 
 
314 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 carnate German philologist, who confounds the sound of 
 words with profound thought. You will acknowledge that 
 until now our language has not been much known." 
 
 "Sire," answered Moritz, "Martin Luther, in his trans- 
 lation of the Bible three hundred years since, employed hun- 
 dreds of beautiful, expressive formations." 
 
 " He is not only a learned man," said the king to himself, 
 " but he seems an honorable one ; and now, as I have proved 
 his scholarly attainments, I must indulge his impatience." 
 The king's penetrating glance softened, and his features 
 changed their severe expression. " The Minister von Herz- 
 berg informed me that he found you by the roadside, and 
 that you would journey hither on foot." 
 
 "It is true, sire." 
 
 "Why did you travel in that manner?" 
 
 " Sire, I desired, as the poor, heavily-laden pilgrims of the 
 middle ages, to make the pilgrimage to the Holy Father at 
 Eome, who was the king of kings. Every step in advance 
 seemed to them to lighten their burden and enhance their 
 happiness. Your majesty is in our day what the pope was 
 held to be in the middle ages, therefore I have wandered as a 
 pilgrim to my king, who has the power to bind and to loose, 
 and from whom I must not only implore personal happiness, 
 but that also of a good and amiable young girl." 
 
 " Ah ! it concerns a love-affair. As I now look at you, I 
 can understand that. You are young and passionate, and the 
 maidens have eyes. How can I help you in such an ad- 
 venture?" 
 
 " Sire, by not granting a title to a certain person, or if it 
 must be granted, annul the conditions attendant upon it." 
 
 "I do not understand you," answered the king, harshly. 
 " Speak not in riddles. What do you mean?" 
 
 " General Werrig von Leuthen has addressed himself to you, 
 sire, praying for the consent of your majesty to the marriage 
 of his daughter with the banker Ebenstreit. Your majesty 
 has consented, and added that Herr Ebenstreit shall take the 
 
THE KING AND THE LOVER. 215 
 
 name of his future father-in-law, and the marriage shall take 
 place as soon as the title of nobility has been made out." 
 
 The king nodded. "For which the new-made nobleman 
 has to pay a hundred louis d'ors to the Invalids at Berlin. 
 But what is that to you? And what connection has Herr 
 Ebenstreit's title to do with Conrector Moritz?" 
 
 Moritz's face brightened, and, deeply moved, he answered: 
 "' Sire, I love the daughter of General von Leu then, and she 
 returns my love. By not ennobling Ebenstreit, it lies in your 
 power, most gracious majesty, to make two persons the most 
 blessed of God's creatures, who desire nothing more than to 
 wander hand in hand through life, loving and trusting each 
 other." 
 
 "Is that all?" asked the king, with a searching glance. 
 
 Moritz quailed beneath it, and cast down his eyes. "No!" 
 he replied. " As I now stand in the presence of your majesty, 
 I am sensible of the boldness of my undertaking, and words 
 fail me to express what is burning in my soul. Oh ! sire, I 
 only know that we love each other, and that this love is the 
 first sunbeam which has fallen upon my gloomy and thorny 
 path of life, and awakened in my lonely heart all the bloom 
 of feeling. You smile, and your great spirit may well mock 
 the poor human being who thinks of personal happiness, 
 when for an idea merely thousands are killed upon the field 
 of battle. My life, sire, has been a great combat, in which I 
 have striven with all the demons escaped from Pandora's box. 
 I have grown up amid privations and need. I have lived and 
 suffered, until God recompensed my joyless, toiling, hungered 
 existence by this reciprocated love, which is a beautiful orna- 
 ment to my life, and is life itself, and to renounce it would 
 be to renounce life. I am young, sire, and I long for the un- 
 known paradise of earthly happiness, which I have never 
 entered until now, and which I can only attain led by the 
 hand of my beloved. I yearn just once, as other privileged 
 men, to bask in the sunshine of happiness a long, beautiful 
 summer day, and then at the golden sunset to sink upon my 
 
216 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 knees and cry, ' I thank Thee, God, that in Thy goodness I 
 have recognized Thy sublimity, and that Thou hast revealed 
 thy glory to me. ' All this appears of little importance to 
 your majesty, for the heart of a king is not like that of other 
 men, and the personal happiness of individuals appears a 
 matter of little account to him who thinks and works for the 
 good of an entire nation. But the fly, sire, which is sunning 
 itself upon the plumes of the helmet of a victorious king, has 
 its right to happiness, for God created it with the same care 
 and love that He created the noblest of His creatures — man ! 
 and it would be cruel to kill it without necessity. Sire, I do 
 not extol myself. I know that in your eyes I am no more 
 than the fly upon your helmet, but I only implore you to 
 grant me my life, for God has given it to me." 
 
 " You mean by this that I shall forbid General von Leuthen 
 to marry his daughter to the rich man who seeks her, and to 
 which marriage, understand me well, I have already given my 
 consent." 
 
 " Sire, I only know that this union drives not only me to 
 despair, but one of the noblest and best of God's creatures. 
 Fraulein von Leuthen does not love the bridegroom forced 
 upon her ; she detests him, and she has good reason to, for 
 the banker Ebenstreit is a cold-hearted, purse-proud man, 
 enfeebled by a voluptuous, vicious life, and seeks nothing 
 nobler and more elevated in the young girl to whom he has 
 offered his hand, than the title and noble name which she can 
 procure for him. Your majesty, I implore not for myself, 
 but for the daugther of a man who once had the good fortune 
 to save your life in battle ! Have pity upon her, and do not 
 sacrifice her to an inconsolably hopeless life by the side of an 
 unloved and detested husband!" 
 
 The king slowly shook his head. " You forget that the 
 general to whom I am indebted for this favor has begged my 
 consent to this marriage, and that I have granted it." 
 
 " Sire, I conjure you to recall it ! Upon my knees I implore 
 you not to grant it ! Do not make two people unhappy, who 
 
THE KING AND THE LOVER. 217 
 
 only beg of your majesty the permission to love and live with 
 each other!" Moritz threw himself at the king's feet, pray- 
 ing with clasped hands, his face flushed with deep emotion, 
 and his eyes dimmed with tears. 
 
 "Rise!" commanded Frederick, "rise, do not kneel to me 
 as to a God. I am a feeble mortal, subject to the same ills 
 which threaten you and the whole human race. Rise, and 
 answer me one question — are you rich?" 
 
 * No," answered Moritz, proudly raising his head; "no, I 
 am poor." 
 
 "Do you know that Fraulein von Leu then is poor? Her 
 father is worse off than Job, for he is in debt." 
 
 " If General von Leuthen's daughter were rich, or even 
 moderately well off, I never would have presumed to address 
 your majesty on the subject, for fear that you might mis- 
 construe my intentions, and suppose that my love was inspired 
 by self-interest. Fortunately, Marie possesses nothing but 
 her noble, beautiful self. She leads a joyless existence under 
 the severe discipline of her cold-hearted parents; and there- 
 fore I can truthfully say, that with me she will lose nothing, 
 but gain what she has never known — a tranquil, happy life, 
 protected by my love." 
 
 "How much salary do you receive as teacher?" 
 
 * Majesty, as conrector of the college attached to the Gray 
 Monastery, three hundred and fifty dollars." 
 
 "Do you expect to live upon that yourself, and support a 
 family besides?" 
 
 " Sire, I shall earn money in other ways, as I have already 
 done. I shall write books. The publishers tell me that I 
 am a favorite author, and they pay me well." 
 
 " If on the morrow you should fall ill, your income would 
 wnish, and your family and you would starve together. No ! 
 no! you are an idealist, you dream how life should be, and 
 not as it is in truth ! I have listened to you, thinking that 
 you would present some forcible argument upon which to 
 found your pretensions, but I hour only the ravings of a lover, 
 15 
 
218 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 who believes the world turns upon the axis of his happiness. 
 Let me tell you that love is an ephemera, which merrily sports 
 in the sunlight a few short hours, and dies at sunset. Should 
 a king forfeit his word for such a short-lived bliss? Should 
 he reward a man to whom he is indebted by depriving him 
 of a rich son-in-law, who is agreeable to him, and substituting 
 a poor one, from whom he can never hope to receive a com- 
 fortable maintenance? You young people are all alike. You 
 think only of yourselves, and it is a matter of little conse- 
 quence to you if the aged pine away and die, provided you 
 build up happiness on their graves! I ask you, who have 
 talked so much about your own wishes, and those of your be- 
 loved, where is it written that man must be happy, that there 
 is a necessity to make him so? Do you suppose that I have 
 ever been happy — who have a long, active life in retrospec- 
 tion? Mankind have taken good care that I should not sip 
 this nectar of the gods, and have taught me early to renounce 
 it. Life is not consumed in pleasure, but in toil, and I be- 
 lieve its only happiness consists in the fact that at last, when 
 weary and worn, we will sink into the grave — to an eternal 
 rest ! Every human being must work according to his abil- 
 ities, and in the position which Fate has assigned to him. 
 To maintain this position, his honor is at stake — the best and 
 most sacred gift confided to man. You will not desert it — 
 not despair in life because your dream of bliss is not realized. " 
 
 "Sire," answered Moritz, with a cry of anguish, "it is no 
 dream, but a reality!" 
 
 "Happiness is only ideal," said the king, slowly shaking 
 his head. " What we sigh for to-day, we curse on the morrow 
 as a misfortune. Let this serve as a lesson to you. Toil 
 on — you are a scholar; woo Science for your bride. Her 
 charms will never fade. In youth as in old age she will at- 
 tract you by her beauty and constancy — that which you can- 
 not hope for from women." 
 
 "Sire," asked Moritz, in deep dejection, "will you not 
 grant the petition of my heart? Will you condemn this poor, 
 
THE KING AND THE LOVER. 21£ 
 
 innocent young girl who prays your majesty through me, to a 
 long, joyless existence, to a daily-renewing sorrow?" 
 
 The king shrugged his shoulders. "I have already said 
 that happiness is imaginary ; I might have added unhappiness 
 also. General von Leuthen 's daughter will accustom herself 
 to the misfortune of being a rich man's wife, and finally will 
 drive with a smiling face in her four-in-hand gilded carriage !" 
 
 " Sire, I swear to you that you mistake this dear, noble- 
 hearted young girl, you — " 
 
 " Enough!" interrupted the king. " I have given my con- 
 sent to General von Leuthen, and I cannot recall it. More- 
 over, the marriage of the daughter of my general with you 
 would be a misalliance — ridiculous. In the republic of intel- 
 lect and science, you may have a very high position, but in 
 my earthly kingdom you hold too modest a one to presume to 
 raise your eyes to a noble young lady. I regret that I can 
 offer you no other consolation than to listen to reason, and be 
 resigned. As we cannot bring down the moon to earth, we 
 must content ourselves with a lamp to light up our small 
 earthly abode. If this ever should fail you, then come to me 
 and I will assist you. I cannot, to be sure, give you the 
 moon, for that belongs as little to me as the bride of the rich 
 Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthen. One cannot give away that 
 which one does not possess. Farewell ! return to Berlin, and 
 resign yourself bravely to your fate. Accustom yourself to 
 the thought that in fourteen days Fraulein von Leuthen will 
 become the wife of your wealthy rival. The wedding cere- 
 mony awaits only the papers of nobility, for which my order 
 has already been forwarded to Berlin. I moreover propose to 
 you not to return to the college at once, but travel for two 
 weeks. I will be responsible for your absence, and provide 
 you with the necessary means. Now tell me whether you 
 accept my proposal?" 
 
 " Thanks to your majesty, I cannot," answered Moritz, with 
 calm dignity. " There is but one balm which my king could 
 grant me. Money is not a plaster to soothe and heal a 
 
220 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 wounded heart. Sire, I beg you to dismiss me, for I will re- 
 turn at once to Berlin." 
 
 " I hope that you have not the foolish idea to return on 
 foot," said the king. " My courier will leave in an hour, and 
 there are two places in the coupe, accept one of them." 
 
 "Sire," said Moritz, gloomily, "I — "suddenly the words 
 died on his lips, and his eyes beamed with an unnatural fire, 
 which paled under the observing glance of the king. "I 
 thank you," said Moritz, gasping, " I will accept it." 
 
 The king nodded. " Au revoir, in Berlin ! When I re- 
 turn after the campaign I will send for you. You will then 
 have learned to forget your so-called misfortune, and smile at 
 your pilgrimage!" 
 
 " I cannot think so, sire." 
 
 " I am convinced of it. Farewell. " 
 
 Moritz answered the royal salutation with a mute bow, and 
 withdrew with drooping head and sorrowful heart. The king 
 continued to regard him with an expression of deep sadness. 
 "Ah!" he sighed, "how enviable are those who can still be- 
 lieve in love's illusion, and who have not awakened from 
 their dream of bliss by sad experience or age ! How long 
 since I have banished these dreams — how long I — " 
 
 The king ceased, his head sank back upon his chair, his 
 large, fiery eyes, peering into the distance, as if he would re- 
 people it with the memories of youth, with the delusions 
 from which he had so long awakened. Those lovely, charm- 
 ing forms flitted before him one by one which had then cap- 
 tivated him : the beautiful Frau von Wrechem, his first love, 
 and to whom he had vowed eternal constancy; another sweet, 
 innocent face that suffered shame and degradation for him — 
 "oh! Doris, Doris, dream of my youth, fly past!" — and now 
 the face with the large eyes and energetic features, which 
 turned so tenderly to him, that of his sister Frederika, who 
 from affection to the crown prince had sacrificed herself to an 
 unloved husband in order to reconcile the son with the father, 
 and preserve for him the inheritance to the throne ; still an» 
 
THE KING AND THE LOVER 221 
 
 other calm and gentle face, with the expression of sorrowful 
 resignation in the deep-bine eyes, that of his wife, who had 
 so passionately loved him, and had faded away at his side un- 
 loved ! All past — past. A new face arose, the pretty Leon- 
 tine von Morien, the tourbillon of the princely court at 
 Rheinsberg, who pined away in sighs. Now passed the 
 sweetest and loveliest of all. The king's eyes, which stared 
 into empty space, now beamed with glad recognition. The 
 heart which had grown old and sobered beat with feverish 
 rapidity, and the compressed lips whispered, sighing, " Bar- 
 barina!" She stood before him in her bewitching beauty, 
 with the charming smile upon her ruby lips, and passionate 
 love beaming from her flashing eyes. " Oh, Barbarina!" The 
 king rose, a cold chill crept over him. He looked around so 
 strangely in the desolate, darkened room, as if he could still 
 see this form which greeted him with the sad smile and tear- 
 ful glance. No one was there. He was quite alone. Only 
 the feeble echo of far-distant days repeated the device of his 
 youth — of his life : " Soffri e taci ! Resignation alone has 
 remained true to me. But no — there is still another friend, 
 my flute. Come, you faithful companion of my life ! You 
 have witnessed my sorrows, and from you I have nothing to 
 conceal!" He tenderly regarded it, for it was long since he 
 had taken it from its case. The sorrows and cares of life, 
 the suffering from the gout which raged in his teeth, and 
 sad, sobering old age, had caused him to lay it aside, but with 
 the habit of affection he carried it everywhere. Frederick 
 felt himself grow young again with the souvenirs of former 
 days, and essayed to recall the echo of tenderer feelings upon 
 his flute. The music of his heart was hushed, the melodious 
 tones of former days would not return. The king laid it 
 aside with an impatient movement. " Nothing is lasting iD 
 life," he murmured. A flourish of trumpets, a peal of drum? 
 announced that the regiment was passing which would parade 
 before the king. What are they playing, which rouses the 
 lonely king with bright memories and shouts of victory? It 
 
222 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 is the march which his majesty composed after the brilliant 
 victory of Hohenfriedberg. The king raised his eyes grate- 
 fully to heaven, repeating aloud : " There is something last- 
 ing in life. Love ceases and music dies away, hut the good 
 we have accomplished remains. The most glorious of earthly 
 rewards is granted to those who have achieved great deeds — 
 the mortal becomes immortal — the gods ceding to him that 
 which is more elevating than love or happiness — fame. Ye 
 trumpets of Hohenfriedberg, ye will still quiver when I am 
 gone, and relate to succeeding generations about * Old Fritz. ' 
 Such tales are well worthy to live and suffer for ! I am com- 
 ing, ye trumpets of fame." With youthful activity and 
 beaming face the king went out to receive his generals, who 
 saluted him with silent reverence, and his soldiers, who 
 greeted their beloved commander and king with an exultant 
 shout. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXI. 
 
 IN WEIMAR. 
 
 " There lies dear Weimar, encircled in its wreath of green- 
 Do you not see it, Wolf? I will refresh my heart with its 
 view; so halt, postilion, halt," cried the duke. "It is more 
 beautiful to me than stately, proud Berlin. Though a poor, 
 gray nest, I could press it to my heart, with all its untidy 
 little houses, and tedious old pedants. Let us walk down the 
 hill, Wolf." 
 
 "Most willingly," cried Goethe, stretching forth his arms 
 to the little town, nestled in the peaceful valley, "be wel- 
 come, you lovely paradise, with your angels and serpents; 
 we press on toward you with all our heart and soul, as to the 
 seven-sealed book, filled with mysteries, and we would draw 
 glorious revelations from your hidden contents." 
 
 " And grant, ye gods, that the inspired one may at last 
 
IN WEIMAR. 223 
 
 break the seal which a cruel friend has placed upon her lips, 
 that he may not drink the kiss of love glowing beneath," said 
 the duke, smiling. " Do you not see the gray roof yonder, 
 with its background of tall trees, that — " 
 
 " The house where dwells my beloved, my dearest friend, 
 my sister, and the mistress of my heart," interrupted Goethe. 
 " She is all this, for she is my all in all. The fountains of 
 bliss and love which here and there I have drawn from, re- 
 freshing my heart and occupying my mind, flow toward her, 
 united in one broad, silvery stream, with heaven and earth 
 mirrored therein, and revealing wonderful secrets in its rush- 
 ing waves." 
 
 "Ah, Wolf!" cried the duke, "you are a happy, enviable 
 creature, free and unfettered, sending your love where it 
 pleases you. My dear Wolf, I advise you never to marry, 
 for — " 
 
 Goethe hastily closed the duke's mouth with his hand. 
 " Hush ! not a word against the noble Duchess Louisa, my 
 master and friend. She is an example of refined, womanly 
 dignity; and you, Charles, are to be envied the love of so es- 
 timable a wife and sweet mother for your children." 
 
 " Indeed I am," cried the duke, enthusiastically. " I could 
 not have found a more high-minded, lovely wife, or a more 
 excellent, virtuous mother for my descendants. But you 
 know, Wolf, that your Charles has still another heart, very 
 susceptible and tender, which seeks for an affinity to call its 
 own, and vent itself in the pleasures of youth, in glorious 
 flirtations, melancholy signs, and blissful longings. You can- 
 not expect me at twenty-two to play the grandfather, and 
 have no eyes or heart for other captivating women, though I 
 love my young wife most affectionately, and bless Fate that I 
 am bound with silken cords to Hymen's cart — though I am 
 forever bound, and you, Wolf, are happily free!" 
 
 " Because grim Fate refuses to unite me to my beloved. 
 Oh, Charlotte, if you were free, how blessed would I be, en- 
 chained by you! Not to 'Hymen's cart,' as the fortunate 
 
224 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 mocker says, but to the chariot of Venus, drawn by doves, 
 enthroned upon which you would bear me to heaven!" 
 
 "Do not blaspheme, Wolf," cried the duke; "rather kneel 
 and thank the gods that you are not fettered and your wings 
 clipped. They wish to preserve to you love's delusion, be- 
 cause you are a favorite, and deny you the object adored. 
 Beware of the institution which the French actress, Sophie 
 Arnould, has so wittily called the 'consecration of adultery.' 
 You will agree with me that we have many such little sacra- 
 ments in our dear Weimar, and I must laugh when I reflect 
 for what purpose those amiable beauties have married, as not 
 one of them love their husbands, but they all possess a friend 
 besides." 
 
 " The human heart is a strange thing," said Goethe, as they 
 descended the hill, arm in arm, " and above all a woman's 
 heart ! It is a sacred riddle, which God has given Himself to 
 solve, and that only a God could unravel!" 
 
 At this instant a flash of lightning, followed by heavy- 
 rolling thunder, was heard. 
 
 "Hear, Wolf — only hear!" laughed Charles — "God in 
 heaven responds, and confirms your statement. " 
 
 " Or punishes me for my bold speech," cried Goethe, as the 
 hailstones rattled around him hitting his face with their 
 sharp points. "Heaven is whipping me with rods." 
 
 " And our carriage has descended with a quick trot into 
 the valley," said the duke. "I will call it." He sprang into 
 the middle of the road, making a speaking-trumpet of his 
 hands, and shouted in a full, powerful voice, " Oho, postilion ! 
 here, postilion!" 
 
 The continued rolling of the thunder, the whistling wind, 
 and rattling hail, made all attempts inaudible. The two 
 gentlemen sought shelter under the thick crowns of the oak- 
 trees by the wayside, which formed an impenetrable roof to 
 the flood of rain. 
 
 " I know nothing more sublime than a thunder-storm," said 
 Goethe, looking up as if inspired ; " when the thunder rolls 
 
IN WEIMAR. 225 
 
 in such awful majesty and wrath, it seems as if I heard Pro- 
 metheus in angry dispute with the gods. In the dark clouds 
 I see the Titan, enveloped in mist, overspreading the heavens, 
 and raising his giant-arm to hurl his mighty wrath." At 
 this instant a flash of lightning, followed by a deafening peal 
 reverberated in one prolonged echo through the hills. 
 
 "Do you not hear him, Charles?" cried Goethe, delighted 
 — " hear all the voices of earth united in the grumbling thun- 
 der of his wrath? See, there he stands, yonder in heaven — 
 his form dark as midnight. I hear it — he calls — 
 
 Overshadow the heavens, O Jupiter, 
 
 With thy vaporous clouds! 
 Cut off the oak and mountain-tops 
 
 As a boy plucks the thistle. 
 Leave me earth and my cabin 
 
 Which thou hast not built, 
 And my hearth-side, 
 
 The glow of which thou enviest me! 
 I know naught so miserable 
 
 As you gods— you— " 
 
 Again the mighty peal silenced Goethe, who looked to heaven 
 with defiance flashing from his eyes and his clinched hand 
 upraised, as if he were Prometheus himself menacing the 
 gods. 
 
 "Proceed, Wolf," cried the duke, as the echo died away. 
 " How can you, yourself a god, be so excited with the anger 
 of like beings? Proceed!" 
 
 The uplifted arm of the poet sank at his side, and the fiery 
 glance was softened. " No human word is capable of express- 
 ing what Prometheus just spoke in thunder," said Goethe, 
 musingly, " and I humbly feel how weak and insignificant we 
 are, and how great we think ourselves, while our voice is like 
 the humming beetle in comparison to this voice from the 
 clouds." 
 
 " Be not desponding, "Wolf, your own will ring throughout 
 Europe ; every ear will listen and every heart will compre- 
 hend, and centuries later it will delight with its freshness and 
 beauty. The storm passes and dies away, but the poet lives 
 
226 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 in his heavenly melodies through all time. You must finish 
 * Prometheus' for me, "Wolf. I cannot permit you to leave it 
 as a fragment. I will have it in black and white, to refresh 
 myself in its beauty bright. A spark of your divine talent is 
 infused into my soul, and I begin to rhyme. Ah, Wolf, all 
 that is elevated within me I owe to you, and I bless Fate for 
 according you to me." 
 
 " And I also, dear Charles," said Goethe, feelingly. " For, 
 fostered and protected by your noble mind and nature, my 
 inmost thoughts develop and blossom. "We give and receive 
 daily from each other, and so mingle the roots of our being 
 that, God willing, we will become two beautiful trees, like 
 the oak which now arches over us. But see, the rain is fast 
 ceasing, and the sun looks out by the clinched hand of Pro- 
 metheus. "We can now travel on to the loved spot." 
 
 " Oh, Wolf, are you in love? None but a lover could say 
 the rain has ceased, when it pours down so that we should be 
 drenched before we could arrive at Weimar. But hark! I 
 hear a carriage in Tie distance; we may be favored with a 
 shelter." 
 
 The duke stepped out from under the trees, and looked 
 along the highway with his sharp hunter's eye. " A vehicle 
 approaches, but no chance for us, as it appears to be a farm- 
 wagon, crowded with men and women." 
 
 " Indeed it does," said Goethe, joining him; " a very merry 
 company they are too, singing gayly. Now, grant the rain 
 rain has ceased — " 
 
 " Charlotte von Stein is at Weimar," interrupted the duke. 
 " Give me your arm, and we will walk on." 
 
 They advanced briskly arm in arm. A stranger meeting 
 them would have supposed that they were brothers, so much 
 alike were they in form, manners, and dress, for the duke as 
 well as Goethe wore the Werther costume. 
 
 As they descended, the carriage came nearer and nearer. 
 The duke's keen eye had not been deceived. It was a farm- 
 wagon, filled with a frolicsome party, sitting on bags of straw 
 
IN WEIMAR. 227 
 
 for cushions. They were chatting and laughing absorbed in 
 fun, and did not observe the two foot-passengers, who turned 
 aside from them. A sudden cry of surprise hushed the con- 
 versation ; a form rose, half man and half woman, enveloped 
 in a man's coat of green baize, crowned with a neat little hat 
 of a woman. "Oh, it is Charles!" cried the form, and at 
 the same instant the duke sprang to the wagon. " Is it pos- 
 sible, my dear mother?" 
 
 "The Duchess Amelia!" cried Goethe, astonished. 
 
 "Yes," laughed the duchess, greeting them with an affec- 
 tionate look. " The proverb proves itself — 'Like mother, like 
 son.' On the highway mother and son have met. You 
 should have done the honors in a stately equipage." 
 
 " May I be permitted to ask where you come from?" asked 
 the duke. " And the dress, of what order do you wear?" 
 
 " We walked to Ziefurt, and intended to walk back. Thus- 
 nelda is so delicate and weak, that she complained of her fairy 
 feet paining her," answered the duchess, laughing. 
 
 "Ah, duchess, must I always be the butt?" cried the lady 
 behind the duchess, crouching between the straw-sacks. 
 " Must I permit you to follow in my footsteps, while I — " 
 
 "Hush, Gochhausen — hush, sweet Philomel," interrupted 
 the duke, " or the Delphic riddle of this costume will be 
 apparent." 
 
 " It is easily explained," said the duchess. " No other con- 
 veyance was to be had, and my good Wieland gave me his 
 green overcoat to protect me from the pouring rain." * 
 
 "And from to-day forth it will be a precious palladium," 
 oried the little man with a mild, happy face on the straw by 
 the duchess. 
 
 " And there is Knebel too," shouted the duke to the gentle- 
 man who just then pulled the wet hood of his cloak over his 
 powdered hair. 
 
 " Our treasurer Bertuch, Count Werther, and Baron von 
 Einsiedel also." 
 
 * True anecdote.— See Lewes' " Goethe's Life and Writings," vol. i., p. 406. 
 
228 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 " Does not your highness ask after our bewitching coun- 
 tess?" asked Gochhausen, in her fine, sharp voice. " The 
 countess is quite ill — is she not, Count Werther?" 
 
 "I believe so, they say so," answered the count, rather 
 absent-minded. " I have not seen her for some days." 
 
 "What is the matter?" asked the duke, as Goethe was en- 
 gaged in a lively conversation with the duchess. " Is the dear 
 countess dangerously ill?" 
 
 "Oh, no," answered Gochhausen, "not very ill, only in 
 love with genius, a malady which has attacked us all more or 
 less since that mad fellow Wolfgang Goethe has raged in Wei- 
 mar, and made it a place of torment to honorable people. 
 Oh, Goethe — oh, Wolf! with what lamb-like innocence we 
 wandered in comfortable sheep's clothing until you came and 
 fleeced us, and infected us with your 'Sturm und Dranger' 
 malady, and made us fall in love with your works!" 
 
 " Gochhausen, hold your malicious tongue, and do not hide 
 your own joy beneath jest and mockery," cried the duchess. 
 " Acknowledge that you are rejoiced to see your favorite, and 
 that you will hasten to write to Madam Aja, 'Our dear duke 
 has returned, and my angel, my idol, Wolfgang, also.' I 
 assure you, Goethe, Thusnelda loves you, and was exceedingly 
 melancholy during your absence. If asked the cause of her 
 sadness, she wept like — " 
 
 "Like a crocodile," said the duke. "Oh, I know those 
 tears of Fraulein Gochhausen ; I could relate stories of her 
 crocodile nature. Mother, how can you have such a monster 
 in your society? Why not make the comes, that the little 
 devils may fly away?" 
 
 "Very good," cried the little, crooked lady. "I see your 
 highness has not changed by this journey. Where have you 
 been, dear duke? Oh, I remember; you flew over the Rhine, 
 and have flown home again quite unchanged." 
 
 All laughed, the duke louder than any one. " Gochhausen, 
 you are a glorious creature, and the Arminius is to be envied 
 who appropriates this Thusnelda. Oh, I see the charming 
 
IN WEIMAR. 22£ 
 
 youth before me, who has the courage to make this German 
 wife his own!" 
 
 " I will scratch his eyes out?" cried Gochhausen, " and then 
 the Countess Werther can play Antigone, and lead him around 
 as (Edipus. Why shut your eyes, Einsiedel? I do no L , 
 scratch quite yet. " 
 
 " I was not thinking of that," said the baron, astonished. 
 
 " You never think that every one knows ; but did you not 
 do it so soon as you understood the Countess Werther should 
 lead blind (Edipus as Antigone?" 
 
 Before the count could answer, the court lady turned again 
 to the duke. "What did your highness bring me? I hope 
 you have not forgotten that you promised me a handsome 
 present. " 
 
 " No, I have not forgotten it ; I have brought my Thus- 
 nelda a souvenir — such a gift!" 
 
 " What is it, your highness?" 
 
 " A surprise which, if Thusnelda is clever, she must think 
 about all night. — But, Goethe, is it not time to leave the 
 ladies?" 
 
 "Wait, I command you both," said the Duchess Amelia, 
 extending her hand to her son, who pressed it to his lips most 
 affectionately. " I have given out invitations for a soiree, for 
 this evening. My daughter-in-law, the Duchess Louisa, has 
 accepted, duke, and Frau von Stein also, Goethe. I hope to 
 see you at Belvedere, gentlemen. The poet Gleim is in town, 
 and will read his late 'Muse Almanach.' May I not expect 
 both of you?" 
 
 They joyfully consented, gazing after the merry society as 
 it drove away. "This is a good bite for the poisonous 
 tongues of the honorable," cried the duke. "My mother in 
 a farm-wagon, with Wieland's green overcoat on, and the 
 reigning duke, with his Goethe, entering his capital on foot 
 like a journeyman mechanic, after a long journey!" 
 
 "I wish we were there, my dearest friend," sighed Goethe. 
 
 "Oh, love makes you impatient! Come on, then. But 
 
230 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 listen, we must play Gochhausen a trick; I have promised 
 her a surprise. Will you help me, Wolf?" 
 
 "With pleasure, duke." 
 
 " I have thought of something very droll, and your servant 
 Philip must help us; he is a clever fellow, and can keep his 
 own counsel." 
 
 " He is silent as the grave, duke. " 
 
 " That is necessary for such a gentleman as the women all 
 run after. Let us skip down the mountain, and then forward 
 where our hearts incline us. This afternoon I will go for you 
 and bring you to Belvedere, and then we can talk over the 
 surprise." They ran down the declivity into the suburb, to 
 the terror of the good people, who looked after them, saying 
 that the young duke had returned with his mad protege. The 
 " mad favorite" seemed more crazy than ever to-day, for after 
 a brief farewell to the duke, he bounded through the streets 
 across the English park, to the loved house, the roof of which 
 he had so longingly greeted from the hillside. The door 
 stood open, as is customary in small towns, and the servant in 
 the vestibule came to meet him, and respectfully announced 
 that her master had gone to his estate at Hochberg, but that 
 Frau von Stein was most probably in the pavilion, in the gar- 
 den, as she had gone thither with her guitar. "Is she 
 alone?" asked Goethe. The servant answered in the affirma- 
 tive, and through the court hastened the lover — not through 
 the principal entrance, as he would surprise her, and read in 
 her sweet face whether she thought of him. Softly he opened 
 the little garden gate, and approached the pavilion by a side- 
 alley. Do his feet touch the ground, or float over it? He 
 knew not ; he heard music, accompanied by a sweet, melodious 
 voice. It was Charlotte's. Goethe's face beamed with de- 
 light and happiness. He gazed at her unseen, not alone 
 with his eyes, but heart and soul went forth to her. She sat 
 sideways to the door; upon a table lay her notes, and the 
 guitar rested upon her arm. She s*mg, in a rich, sweet voice, 
 Reinhardt's beautiful melody: 
 
IN WEIMAR. 231 
 
 I'd rather fight my way through sorrows 
 Than bear so many joys in life ; 
 All this aflinity of heart to heart, 
 How strangely it causes us to suffer ! " 
 
 She ceased, as if overpowered with her own thoughts, the 
 guitar sank upon her lap, and her fingers glided over the 
 chords, so that the tones died away imperceptibly. Her deep- 
 blue eyes gazed pensively in the distance, and the sweet lips 
 repeated softly, " How strangely it causes us to suffer!" Near 
 the garden entrance, through which the odor of sweet flowers 
 and the song of birds was wafted with every gentle zephyr, 
 stood Goethe, looking at the woman whom he had so passion- 
 ately loved for three years, so absorbingly, that to her were 
 consecrated all his thoughts. 
 
 He could contain himself no longer ; he rushed forward and 
 threw himself at her feet. " Oh, Charlotte, I love you, only 
 you, and once more I am by your side!" 
 
 A shriek! was it a cry of surprise or delight? Who let the 
 guitar fall to the floor, he or she? Who embraced the other 
 in affectionate haste, he or she? Who pressed the lips so lov- 
 ingly to the other lips, he or she? And who said, "I love 
 you ? What bliss to again repose in your affection, I would 
 fain die now. In this moment a whole life has been conse- 
 crated, for love has revealed to us our other self." 
 
 She sat upon the tabouret, and Goethe still knelt before 
 her, clasping her feet and pressing them to his bosom. His 
 beautiful eyes beamed with inexpressible delight as he regarded 
 the face, usually so calm and indifferent — to-day glowing as 
 the sunrise. 
 
 "Oh, tell me, Charlotte, have you thought of me? But 
 no ! rather speak to me with your eyes, and may they be more 
 frank than the cruel lips which refuse to confess. Oh, shade 
 not those loved orbs, which are my stars shining upon me, 
 whithersoever I wander. They are my light, my spring-time, 
 and my love. They will never cease to beam upon me, as 
 light and love never grow old. Let me read eternal youth in 
 those eyes, and the secrets which rest as pearls in the depths 
 
232 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 of yonr heart. Only tell me, is the pearl of love to be found 
 there, and is it mine?" 
 
 " It would be a misfortune if it were there," she whispered, 
 with a sweet smile. " Pearls are the result of a malady, and 
 my heart would be ill if the pearl of love were found there. 
 No, no, rise, Wolf, dear Wolf, we have given away at the first 
 moment of meeting ; let us now be reasonable, and speak in a 
 dignified manner with each other, as it becomes a married 
 woman and her friend." 
 
 "Friend?" repeated Goethe, impetuously; "forever must I 
 listen to this hated, hypocritical word, which, like a priest's 
 robe, shall cover the sacred glow in my heart? I have told 
 you, Charlotte that I am not your friend, and I never shall 
 be. There is not the least spark of this still, calm fire of the 
 earthly moderation in me, by which one could cook his po- 
 tatoes, or his daily vegetables, but by which one could never 
 prepare food for the gods, or that which could refresh a poet's 
 heart or quicken his soul. No, in me burns the fire which 
 Prometheus stole from the gods, originating in heaven and 
 glowing upon earth. This heavenly and earthly love unites 
 in one flame. Again, I say, Charlotte, banish this hypocriti- 
 cal word 'friendship!' It is only love which I feel for you, 
 let this sentiment enter at every avenue of your heart, and do 
 not feign ignorance of it, sweet hypocrite. Surprise has torn 
 away the mask ! The passionate kiss, which still burns upon 
 my lips, was not given by a friend or sister; but overcome 
 by joy, the truth has been acknowledged!" 
 
 " Do you wish that the kiss of meeting should be that of 
 parting also?" said Charlotte, sadly, as she raised her blue 
 eyes with a languishing look to the handsome, ardent face of 
 the man who stood before her. " Do you wish to separate 
 forever? I must recall to you our last conversation: 'Only 
 when you are resolved to moderate this impetuous manner, 
 and curb this overflow of feeling, which reason and custom 
 imposes upon us, shall I be able to recieve you and enjoy your 
 society. ' " 
 
IN WEIMAR. 233 
 
 "Yes, with these unmeaning phrases you banished me. 
 Cruel and hard-hearted were you to the last. Oh, Charlotte ! 
 you know what I suffered at our last walk, with your reason- 
 ing remonstrances and cold-hearted reproaches ; they pierced 
 my heart like poisoned arrows. If the duke and duchess had 
 not been walking before us, I should have wept myeslf weary. 
 My whole being cried within me : * Oh ! cruel and inexorable 
 woman, to beg of me, who so unutterably loves her, to call 
 her friend and sister!' I repeated the words daily during 
 my absence, and sought to clothe your beloved image with 
 their meaning. They disfigured you, and the angel whom I 
 adore was no longer recognizable. I cannot call you friend 
 or sister." 
 
 "Then I can be nothing to you, dear Wolfgang," sighed 
 Charlotte. " In this hour of meeting we will part, and to 
 avoid a chance encounter even, I will go to my husband at 
 Kochberg, and remain there the whole summer." 
 
 Goethe seized her, holding her fast in his strong arms, star- 
 ing her in the face with a fierce, angry look. " Are you in 
 earnest? Would you really do it?" 
 
 " Goethe, I beg you to loosen your hold ; you hurt my arms. " 
 
 "Do you not also hurt me? With your cold indifference 
 do you not pierce my heart with red-hot daggers, and then 
 smile and rejoice at my torture, which is a proof to you of my 
 unbounded love? While you only play with me, and attach 
 me to your triumphal car, to display to the world that you 
 have succeeded in taming the lion, and have changed him 
 into a good-natured domestic animal. Go ! you do not de- 
 serve that I should love you, cold-hearted, cruel woman!" 
 
 He threw her arms from him, with tears in his eyes. Char- 
 lotte von Stein regarded him with anger and indifference. 
 " Farewell, secretary of legation. It seems to please you to 
 insult and offend a poor woman, who has no other protection 
 than her honor and virtue. Farewell ! I will not expose my- 
 self to such offences; therefore I will retire." 
 
 She turned slowly toward the door, but Goethe bounded 
 1C 
 
234 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 forward like a tiger, interrupted her path, falling npon his 
 knees, imploring pity and begging for pardon. " Oh, Char- 
 lotte, I will be gentle as a child, I will be reserved, I know 
 that I am a sinner ! It is warring against one's own heart to 
 seek comfort in offending what is dearest to it in a moment of 
 ill-humor. But I have again become a child, with all my 
 thoughts, scarcely recognizable for the moment, quite lost to 
 myself, as I consent to the conditions of others with this fire 
 raging within me. Oh, beloved Charlotte, forgive me! I 
 submit to all that you wish."* 
 
 " Will you be satisfied to love me as your friend and sister?" 
 "I will be," he sighed. "Only in the future you must 
 endeavor to persuade yourself into such a sisterly way that 
 you will be indulgent to my rudeness, otherwise I shall have 
 to avoid you when I need you most. Oh, Charlotte, it seems 
 terrible to me that I should mar through anguish the best 
 hours of my life, the blissful moments of meeting with you, 
 for whom I would pluck every hair from my head if it would 
 make you happy. And yet to be so blind, so hardened! 
 Have pity upon me. Again I promise you that I will be 
 reasonable. Do not banish me from your presence. Extend 
 to me your hand, and promise me that you will be my friend 
 and sister!" f 
 
 "Then here is my hand," said she, with a charming smile. 
 " I will be your friend and sister, and — " 
 
 "What now, my Charlotte? do finish — what is it?" 
 She laid her hand gently upon his shoulder, and her words 
 fell on his ear like soft music. "When my dear friend and 
 much-beloved brother has conducted himself very prudently 
 for two or three happy weeks, I will send him a ringlet of my 
 hair, which he has so long begged for, and a kiss with it." 
 
 Goethe spoke not, but pressed her blushing face to his 
 bosom, and laid his hand gently upon her head. A smile of 
 delight — of perfect happiness — played around his lips. 
 
 * Goethe's words.— See M Letters to Charlotte von Stein," vol. i, p. 358. 
 tlbid. 
 
THE READING. 335 
 
 CHAPTEE XXII. 
 
 THE BEADING. 
 
 This happy smile still beamed upon Goethe's face as he 
 walked with the duke late in the evening toward Belvedere to 
 the soiree of the Duchess Amelia, who was inspired with a 
 love for the fine arts, and particularly literature. The two 
 gentlemen had busily occupied themselves in preparing the 
 promised surprise for the lady of honor, Fraulein von Goch- 
 hausen, and, although aided by Goethe's servant, Philip, and 
 other workmen, it was late when they arrived. 
 
 As they entered, the ladies and gentlemen were seated in a 
 large circle around the centre-table. At one end sat the 
 Duchesses Amelia and Louisa, the mother and wife of Charles 
 Augustus, and near the former her friend and favorite the 
 poet Wieland, once the tutor of her son the duke. Near the 
 poet sat an elderly gentleman of cheerful, good-natured mien, 
 who, with the exception of Wieland, was the only one who 
 did not present himself, like the duke and Goethe, in Werther 
 costume. He wore a white, silver-embroidered coat, with a 
 dark-blue satin vest, and breeches of the same, shoes with 
 buckles, and bosom and wrist ruffles of lace. 
 
 This gentleman, with the bright, sparkling eyes, and 
 round, pleasant face, was the poet Gleim, who looked very 
 comfortable and stately in the circle of powdered perukes. 
 His admiration for Frederick the Great had inspired him to 
 write some beautiful military songs, and his love of poetry 
 and literature made him an enthusiastic admirer of all those 
 who devoted themselves to literary pursuits. Besides, he was 
 rich and liberal, and it was very natural that the poets, and 
 authors exerted themselves with marked assiduity to please 
 Father Gleim. They were gratified to have him print their 
 works for a small remuneration in an annual which he entitled 
 the " Almanach of the Muses." He was just reading aloud at 
 the duchess's soiree from the late edition of the almanach, 
 
236 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 and the society listened with earnest and kind attention, oc- 
 casionally interrupted with an enthusiastic "Bravo!" or 
 "Excellent!" from the duchess, followed by a murmur of as- 
 sent around the table, which caused the poet's face to brighten 
 with joy and satisfaction, and him to read on with increased 
 energy. 
 
 The entrance of the duke and Goethe was unobserved, as it 
 was understood that the former wished no notice to be taken 
 of his going or coming, and the duchess had also waved her 
 hand, not to interrupt Father Gleim. The poet has just fin- 
 ished the new poem of melodious rhythm of imprisoned 
 Shubart. As he paused to wipe the perspiration from his 
 brow and sip a little raspberry water, a tall, slender young 
 man, in the "Werther costume, approached, bowing, and re- 
 garding the poet so kindly, that the glance of his fine black 
 eyes fell like a sunbeam on the heart of the old man. " You 
 appear somewhat fatigued, my good sir," said the unknown, 
 in a sweet, sonorous voice. " Will you not permit me to re- 
 lieve you, and read in your stead from this glorious book of 
 yours?" 
 
 " Do so, my dear Gleim," said the Duchess Amelia, smiling, 
 " you seem really exhausted ; let the young man continue the 
 agreeable and welcome entertainment." 
 
 Father Gleim was very well pleased ; he handed the book 
 to the young stranger with a graceful bow, as the latter seated 
 himself opposite to him, and next to Fraulein Gochhausen. 
 
 He commenced in a clear, distinct voice. The verses 
 flowed from his lips gracefully, and in a cultivated style. 
 The company listened with devoted attention, and Father 
 Gleim, the protector of all the young poets, sat delighted, 
 nodding consent, with a pleasant smile. It must all be 
 charming — it had come into existence under his fostering 
 •care. What beautiful verses to listen to ! 
 
 " Die Zephyre lauschen, 
 Die Bache rauschen, 
 Die Sonne 
 Verbreitet ihr Licht mit Wonnel" 
 
THE READING. 237 
 
 And how charmingly the young man read them ! Suddenly 
 Father Gleim startled, and the smile died upon his lips. 
 What was it? "What was the young man reading? Verses 
 which were not in the collection, and which were more re- 
 markable than he had ever heard from his young poets. 
 
 Those are not in the Annual, " cried Gleim, quite forget- 
 ting decorum, — " that — " 
 
 One glance from the fine black eyes of the young man so 
 confounded Father Gleim, that he ceased in the midst of a 
 sentence, and, staring in breathless astonishment, listened. 
 Glorious thoughts were expressed therein, and the poets of 
 the Muse Almanach might have thanked God if the like had 
 occurred to them. Love was not the burden of the song; 
 neither hearts, griefs, nor bliss, but satire, lashing right and 
 left with graceful dexterity, and dealing a harmless thrust to 
 every one. All were forced to laugh ; the happy faces an- 
 imated and inspired every thing. The brilliant satirical verses 
 rushed like rockets from the lips of the reader — a real illu- 
 mination of wit and humor, of good-natured jokes and biting 
 sarcasm, and it delighted the old man that every one had re- 
 ceived hits and thrusts but himself; he had been spared until 
 now! Every one regarded him, smiling and amused, as the 
 reader exalted the merits of the Maecenas, and praised him 
 highly for the interest he took in the poet's heart, soul, and 
 rune, and shouted victory when one excelled. But suddenly 
 the good father also changed, and, instead of the patron on 
 the right throne, there was a turkey-cock on the round nest, 
 which zealously sought to hatch out the many eggs that he 
 had to take care of for others besides his own ; he sat brood- 
 ing untiringly, and shed many a tear of joy over the fine 
 number of eggs, yet it happened that a poetical viper had 
 -nut under him one of chalk, which he cared for with the 
 others. 
 
 Herr Gleim could no longer contain himself, and, striking 
 the table, he cried, "That is either Goethe or the devil!" 
 The entire company burst into uncontrollable laughter, and 
 
238 OLD FHITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 the old man shouted the second time, though inwardly angry, 
 "It is either Goethe or the devil!" 
 
 "Both, dear Father Gleim," said Wieland, who was drying 
 his tears from laughter, " it is Goethe, and he has the devil in 
 him to-day. He is like a wild colt, which kicks out behind and 
 "before, and it would be well not to approach him too near."* 
 
 Goethe alone retained his composure, and continued read- 
 ing in a louder voice, which hushed all conversation. He 
 lashed with bitter sarcasm "him who assumed to be a god — a 
 wise man — and who counted for nothing better than a pre- 
 tentious, saucy fellow, who made himself the scorn of the 
 poets by his sweet, Werther-like sighs, and other worthless 
 lamentations, heeding neither God nor the devil!" 
 
 And so he stormed and thundered, ridiculed and slandered 
 his own flesh and blood, until Gochhausen, red with anger, 
 rose and snatched the book from his hand, and closed his lips 
 with her hand, crying : " If you do not cease, Goethe, I will 
 write to your beloved mother, Frau Aja, that a satirist, a 
 calumniator has had the impudence to defame and slur her 
 beloved son in a most sinful and shameful manner! I will 
 write to her, indeed, if you do not stop!" 
 
 Goethe rose, and bowing offered his hand to Father Gleim 
 in such a friendly, affectionate manner, that the old man, 
 quite delighted, thanked him heartily for the pleasure and 
 surprise which he had afforded him. 
 
 The duke, however, seated himself by the Tittle lady of 
 honor. " Thusnelda, you are an incomparable creature, and 
 quite calculated to be the ancestress of all the Germans. I de- 
 clare myself your cavalier for the evening, and will devote 
 myself to you as your most, humble servant, and will not quit 
 your side for a moment. " 
 
 " Very beautiful it will be, my dear duke, a most charming 
 idyl ; in true Watteau style, I will be the sweet shepherdess, 
 and lead your highness by a little ribbon. But where is my 
 present — my surprise?" 
 
 * WfelancTs own words.— See Lewes 1 " Life of Goethe," vol L, p. 438. 
 
THE READING. 239 
 
 " You must not be impatient, Thusnelda, but wait what 
 time will produce. You will have it; if not to-day, to- 
 morrow. Every day brings its own care and sorrow. " 
 
 " Ah, duke, instead of giving me my surprise, you beat me 
 with doggerels. That comes from having a Goethe for com- 
 panion and friend. Crazy tricks, like chicken-pox, are con- 
 tagious, and the latter you have caught, duke. It is a new 
 kind of genius distemper. Very fortunately, our dear Coun- 
 tess Werther has another malady, or she might be infected. 
 Perhaps she has it already, Count Werther — how is it?" 
 
 " I do not know, Fraulein,*' replied the count, startled from 
 his reverie. " I really do not know ! My wife is quite ill, 
 and for that reason has gone to our estate to recover her peace 
 and quiet. It is unfortunately quite impossible for me to 
 visit her there; but my dear, faithful friend, Baron von 
 Einsiedel, will drive over to-morrow at my request, my com- 
 mission — m 
 
 " To set the fox to keep the geese, " interrupted Thusnelda 
 in her lively manner. 
 
 "No, not that, Praulein," said Count Werther, quite con- 
 fused, as the duke burst into a merry laugh, calling Thus- 
 nelda a witty Kobold, and as her faithful Celadon offered her 
 his arm to conduct her to his mother, the Duchess Amelia. 
 
 The company were all in a very happy frame of mind. 
 Goethe's charming impromptu had kindled wit and humor 
 upon every lip. He himself was the happiest of all, for Char- 
 lotte was by his side, gazing upon him with her large, 
 thoughtful eyes, and permitting him to be her cavalier for 
 the evening. 
 
 The duke also devoted himself to Fraulein von Gochhausen, 
 who was this evening unsurpassably witty and caustic, de- 
 lighting him, and making the Duchess Amelia laugh, and 
 the Duchess Louisa sometimes to slightly shrug her shoulders 
 and shake her head with disapproval. 
 
 In the midst of a most interesting conversation with Frau 
 Ton Stein, Goethe was informed that some one awaited him 
 
340 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 in the anteroom. He went out quickly, and upon returning 
 he whispered to the duke, who nodded, and answered him in 
 a low tone, and then Goethe betook himself to the Duchess 
 Amelia. , 
 
 "What is it?" the latter asked. "Have important dis- 
 patches arrived?" 
 
 " No ; I come to your highness as courier from your son. 
 The duke begs that you will lock the door of your anteroom 
 when you retire, and that you will upon no condition open it v 
 no matter how much Thusnelda may beg and implore." 
 
 "Will you not injure my poor Gochhausen, you wanton 
 fellow?" 
 
 "No! it is not very dangerous, duchess. It is only a 
 harmless surprise, which the duke promised Fraulein von 
 Gochhausen. n 
 
 " Very well, then, it can take place I promise to be quite 
 deaf to all Thusnelda's knocking and thumping, and I shall 
 be glad to be informed to-mororw what the trick is. I pre- 
 fer not to inquire to-day, as I might feel obliged to veto it if 
 it were too severe. But look, the Duchess Louisa will break 
 up; does she know any thing about the affair?" 
 
 "No, your highness, you know very well that the young 
 duchess — " 
 
 " Is much more sensible than the old one, and shakes her 
 head disapprovingly when she hears of your ingenuous tricks. 
 Perhaps it would be well if I were equally sensible, but there 
 is no help for it. I like bright, happy people, and I think 
 when youth vents itself, old age is more sedate and reason- 
 able." 
 
 " You are quite right, duchess. Mankind resembles new 
 wine. If the must does not ferment and foam well, no good 
 wine will come of it. But look at our Charles, with the saucy 
 jest upon his lip, and the fire of inspiration in those bright 
 brown eyes. One day a fine, strong wine will clear itself from 
 "this glorious fermenting must." 
 
 "I hope so, Goethe, and if the gods grant it, the great 
 
WITCHCRAFT. 241 
 
 merit will belong to you, who have proved yourself a good 
 vintager, and we will rejoice together in your glorious 
 success. " 
 
 CHAPTEK XXIII. 
 
 WITCHCRAFT. 
 
 An hour later the palace Belvedere was silent and deserted ; 
 *U the guests had taken their departure. The duchess had 
 dismissed her suite and commanded them to retire. Fraulein 
 von Gochhausen alone remained with her mistress, chatting 
 by the bedside, and recapitulating in her amusing style all 
 the important and unimportant events of the soiree. The 
 duchess smiled at the mischievous remarks with which she or- 
 namented her relation, and at her keen, individualizing of 
 certain persons. 
 
 " Fraulein Gochhausen, you are the most wicked and the 
 merriest mocking-bird God ever created," cried the duchess, 
 laughing. "Have done with your scandals, go up to your 
 little room, piously say your evening prayers, and stretch your- 
 self upon your maiden bed." 
 
 "Soon, duchess; only one thing more have I to call your 
 attention to. There is a gossip afloat about the Werthers. 
 I perceive it in the air, as the dove scents the vulture." 
 
 "You alarm me, Gochhausen; what good is it? You do 
 not mean that the lovely Countess Werther — " 
 
 " Is not only very weary of her husband, but looks about 
 for a substitute — a friend, as the ingenious ladies now call 
 him. That is what I mean, and I know the so-called friend 
 which the sweet sentimental countess has chosen." 
 
 " It is the Baron von Einsiedel, is it not?" asked the duch- 
 ess. " That is to say, his younger brother, the gay lieutenant, 
 not our good friend par excellence. 
 
 " Yes, I mean the brother, and I have warned and taunted 
 
242 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 the count this week past, but it is impossible to awake him 
 from his stupidity and thoughtlessness." 
 
 " Again you are giving loose reins to your naughty tongue, 
 Thusnelda. Count Werther is a thoroughly scholarly person, 
 whom I often envy his knowledge of the languages. He has 
 studied Sanscrit and the cuneated letters, among other an- 
 cient tongues." 
 
 " It may be that he understands the dead languages, but 
 the living ones not in the least. The language of the eyes 
 and inspiration he is blind to, with seeing eyes ! My dear 
 duchess, if you are not watchful, and prevent the affair with 
 timely interference, a scandal will grow out of it, and you 
 know well that it would be a welcome opportunity for our 
 Weimar Philistines (as the Jena students call commonplace 
 gossips) to cry 'Murder,' and howl about the immoral exam- 
 ple of geniuses, which Wolfgang Goethe has introduced at 
 court." 
 
 "You are right," said the duchess, musingly; "your apt 
 tongue and keen eye are ever carefully watching, like a good 
 shepherd-dog, that none of the sheep go astray and are lost. 
 And you do not mind attacking this or that one in the leg 
 with your sharp teeth!" 
 
 "Let those scream who are unjustly bitten, your highness! 
 Believe me, the countess will not cry out; she will much 
 more likely take care not to receive a well-merited rebuke. I 
 beg your grace to prevent the gossip ! Not on account of this 
 silly, sentimental young woman, or her pedantic husband, but 
 that our young duke and Goethe may not be exposed to scan- 
 dal, as well as your highness." 
 
 " You are right — we must take care to prevent it. Has not 
 the countess been absent at her estate four days?" 
 
 " Yes, your highness, it is just this that troubles me. She 
 went away as sound as a fish, and has suddenly fallen very ill. 
 No physician has been called, but, to-morrow, the count will 
 commission his dear friend the baron to drive to his country- 
 seat, and bring him tidings of his better-half." 
 
WITCHCRAFT. 243 
 
 " We must circumvent this. In the morning we will ar- 
 range a pleasure-drive, of the whole court, to the country- 
 seat of Count Werther. It shall be a surprise. Let Fourier 
 give out the invitations early to-morrow, for a country party, 
 destination unknown. The distribution of the couples in the 
 carriages shall be decided by lot. Take care that Lieutenant 
 Einsiedel is your cavalier, so that when we arrive at the little 
 Werther, he will already be appropriated, and then we will 
 induce her to return with us and spend some time at Belve- 
 dere. Now, good-night, Thusnelda; I am very tired and 
 need repose. Sleep already weighs upon my eyelids, and will 
 close them as soon as you are gone. Good-night, my child — 
 sleep well!" 
 
 The little deformed court lady kissed the extended hand, 
 took the candlestick, with only a stump of a taper in it, and 
 withdrew from the princely sleeping-room, courtesying, and 
 wishing her mistress good-night, with pleasant dreams. 
 
 The anteroom was dark and deserted. The lights were all 
 extinguished, and Fraulein Gochhausen was, in truth, the 
 only person who had not long since retired in the ducal pal- 
 ace. She was accustomed to be the last, accustomed to 
 traverse the long, lonely corridors, and mount two nights of 
 stairs to her bedroom upon the third story. The gay duchess, 
 being very fond of society, had had the second story arranged 
 as guest-chambers and drawing-rooms. 
 
 Why should the little court lady be afraid to-night? She 
 had not thought of it, but stepped forward briskly to mount 
 the stairs. It was surely very disagreeable for the wind oO 
 extinguish her lamp at that instant, just at the turning of 
 the stairs, and she could not account for it, as none of the 
 windows were open, and there was no trace of a draft. How- 
 ever, it was an undeniable fact, the light was out and she was 
 in total darkness — not even a star was to be seen in the 
 clouded sky. It was, indeed, true that Thusnelda was so ac- 
 customed to the way that it mattered little whether she had a 
 light or not. Now she had reached the comder and she 
 
244 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 could not fail to find the door, as there was but one, that of 
 her own room. She stretched out her hand to open it, but, 
 strange to say, she missed the knob ! Then she was sure that 
 it was farther on ; she felt along the wall, but still it eluded 
 her grasp. It was unheard of — no handle and not a door 
 even to be found! The wall was bare and smooth, and 
 papered the entire length. A slight shudder crept over the 
 courageous little woman's heart, and she could not explain to 
 herself what it all meant. She called her maid, but no an- 
 swer — not a sound interrupted the stillness! "I will go 
 down to the duchess," murmured Thusnelda; "perhaps she is 
 awake, and then I can relight my taper!" 
 
 The door was fastened ; the duchess had locked the ante- 
 room to-night for the first time. 
 
 Thusnelda tapped lightly, and begged an entrance humbly 
 and imploringly. No answer, every thing was quiet. She 
 recalled that the duchess had told her that she was very 
 weary, and would sleep as soon as she was alone, which she 
 undoubtedly had done. 
 
 Thusnelda did not presume to awake her by knocking 
 louder. She would be patient, and mount again to her room. 
 Surely she must have made a mistake, and turned to the left 
 of the corridor, where there was no door, instead of the right, 
 as she ought to have done. It must be that it was her fault. 
 She groped along the dark flights of stairs to the upper gal- 
 lery, carefully seeking the right this time, but in vain. 
 Again she felt only the smooth wall. Terrified, she knew not 
 whether she was awake or dreaming, or whether she might 
 not be in an enchanted castle, or walking in her sleep in a 
 strange house. Just here she ought to find her room and the 
 maid awaiting her, but it was lonely, deserted, and strange — 
 no door, no maid. Thusnelda, with trembling hands smoothed 
 her face, pulled first her nose, and then her hair, to identify 
 herself. "Is it I?" she said. "Am I, indeed, myself? Am 
 I awake? I know that I am lady of honor to the Duchess 
 Amelia, and that upon the upper story is my room. Do not 
 
WITCHCRAFT. 245 
 
 be foolish, and imagine that witchcraft comes to pass ; the 
 door is there, and it can be found." Thusnelda renewed her 
 search with out-spread arms and wide-spread fingers, feeling 
 first this side of the wall and then the other. 
 
 By daylight the deformed little lady of honor must have 
 been a very droll figure, in full toilet, dancing along the wall 
 as if suspended by her outstretched hands. Oh, it was quite 
 vain to seek any longer. It must be enchantment, and the 
 door had disappeared. An indefinable dream crept over 
 Thusnelda, and she was cast down. For the first time a jest 
 failed her trembling lips, and she wept with anguish. Yes,, 
 she, the keen, mordant, jesting little woman, prayed and im- 
 plored her Maker to unloose her from the enchantment, and 
 permit her to find the long-sought-for entrance. But pray- 
 ing was in vain, the door was not to be found, it was witch 
 craft, aud she must submit to it. The rustling and moving 
 of her arms frightened her now, and when she walked the 
 darkness prevented her seeing if any one followed her ; so she 
 crouched upon the floor, yielding to the unavoidable necessity 
 of passing the night there — the night of enchantment and 
 witchery. * 
 
 Not alone for Fraulein Gochhausen was this beautiful May- 
 night one of sad experience with witches. There were other 
 haunted places at Weimar. In the neighborhood of the duca^ 
 park, in the midst of green meadows, stood a simple little 
 cottage. Near it flowed the Hm, spanned by three bridges, 
 all closed by gates, so that no one could reach the cottage 
 without the occupant's consent. It was as secure as a fortress 
 or an island of the sea, and distinctly visible even in th3 
 night, its white walls rising against the dark perspective of 
 the park. This is the poet's Eldorado, his paradise, pre- 
 sented to Wolfgang Goethe by his friend the Duke Charles 
 Augustus. It was late as the possessor wound his way toward 
 his Tusculum, as he familiarly called it, and, more attracted 
 by the aspect of the heavens than by sleep, sought the bal- 
 
 * See Lewes' " Life and Writings of Goethe," vol. i., p. 408. 
 
346 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 •cony, to gaze at the dark mass of clouds chasing each other 
 like armies in retreat and pursuit ; one moment veiling the 
 moon, at another revealing her full disk, and soon again 
 covering the earth with dark shadows, until the lightning 
 flashed down in snaky windings, making the darkness mo- 
 mentarily visible with her lurid glare. It was a glorious 
 spectacle for the intuitive, sympathetic soul of the poet, and 
 he yielded to its influence with delight. He heard the voice 
 of God in the rolling of the thunder, and sought to compre- 
 hend the unutterable, and understand it in this poetical sense. 
 Voices spake to him in the rushing of the storm, the sighing 
 of the trees, and the rustling of the foliage. The storm 
 passed quickly, a profound quiet and solemnity spread out 
 over the nightly world, and it lay as if in repose, smiling in 
 blissful dreams. The air was filled with perfumes, wafted to 
 the balcony upon which dreamed the poet with unclosed eye- 
 lids and waking thoughts. The clouds were all dispersed; 
 full and clear was suspended the moon in the deep, blue vault, 
 where twinkled thousands of stars, whispering of unknown 
 worlds, and the mysteries of Nature, and the greatness of 
 Him who created them all. 
 
 " Oh, beloved, golden moon, how calmly you look down 
 upon me, sublime and lovely at the same time ! When I gaze 
 at you, moving so quietly, floating in infinity, and contem- 
 plating reflect thyself in finiteness, I think of you, oh Char- 
 lotte, who stands above me like the moon so bright and mild, 
 and I envelop myself in your rays, and my spirit becomes 
 heavenly in your light. 
 
 Mir ist es, denk ich nur an Dich, 
 Als in den Mond zu seh'n, 
 Ein susser Friede went um mien, 
 Weiss nicht, wie mir gescheh'n ! 
 
 " Yes, like sweet peace, and quiet, sacred moonlight, my 
 thoughts shall be of you, Charlotte; not like the glowing rays 
 of the sun, or the cold light of the stars. Bright and beam- 
 ing like the moon you are to me, spreading around me your 
 
WITCHCRAFT. 24? 
 
 soft light. Oh, beautiful golden moon, mirrored in the 
 water, you lie as in a silvery bath, and would entice me to 
 seek you in the murmuring depths. Hark! how the ruffled 
 waves of the Hm with repeated gentle caresses kiss the shore, 
 and rush from thence in golden links down the river ! Sweet 
 nymph of the Ilm, I come, I come!" 
 
 Goethe hastened from the balcony, threw aside his apparel, 
 and plunged into the silvery flood, shouting with joy. 
 
 What heavenly pleasure to float there, rocked by the mur- 
 muring waves, gazing at the silvery stars and the golden 
 moon, on a lovely May night, listening to the voices of Na- 
 ture ! Add to that the perfume-laden breeze rising from the 
 rain-refreshed meadows. How glorious to plunge into the 
 cool stream, splashing and dashing the water, and then to 
 shoot like a fish through the drops falling like golden rain I 
 Suddenly, while swimming, Goethe raised his head to listen. 
 He thought he heard footsteps on the poet's forbidden bridge. 
 The moon distinctly revealed a peasant from Oberweimar, who 
 would be early to the weekly market, and so serve himself to 
 the shortest route while no one could see him. 
 
 " Such presumption deserves punishment, my good peasant, 
 and if there is no one else to do it the ghosts must." 
 
 Listen, what a savage yell from under the bridge, and then 
 another more unearthly! 
 
 The peasant, frightened, stopped suddenly, and looked 
 down into the river. " Oh, what oan it be?" 
 
 A glistening white arm is raised menacingly toward the 
 bridge. A white figure, with a black head and long black 
 hair, is seen plunging and splashing, while fearful yells are 
 heard from the deep. Then it disappeared, to return, and 
 menace, and yell, and plunge again. 
 
 The peasant shrieked with terror, and was answered with a 
 cruel laugh. The white figure sank and rose from the river 
 screeching and yelling, and the peasant shrieked also with, 
 terror. 
 
 " A ghost ! a ghost ! oh, have mercy upon us ! Amen ! amen !* 
 
248 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 Fright lent him wings, and he fled, followed by the savage 
 yells of the white figure, and never stopped until he reached 
 Oberweimar, where he related to the astonished and terrified 
 neighbors that there was a river-ghost just by the bridge 
 which led to the cottage of the mad secretary of legation, 
 Goethe, and which howled in the moonlight.* 
 
 "With the peasant also disappeared the ghost of the Ilm. 
 
 Like a happy child of Nature, refreshed, Goethe went to 
 his room and then again sought the balcony, to throw himself 
 upon the carpet and gaze at the blue starry vault, and enjoy 
 the glories of heaven with thoughtful devotion, and think of 
 Charlotte — only of her, not once of the poor Thusnelda von 
 Gochhausen, who passed the night upon the stairs of the Pal- 
 ace Belvedere, and who, at last weary with fright and ex- 
 haustion, fell asleep, and was awakened by the Duchess 
 Amelia in the morning, laughingly demanding why she pre- 
 ferred the landing of the stairs for a place of repose. 
 
 " Because I am bewitched, duchess, and my sleeping-room 
 has disappeared from earth — because some cursed demon or 
 wizard has enchanted me, this wicked — " 
 
 "Beware what you say!" interrupted the duchess; "it is 
 most probably the duke that you are inveighing against, and 
 calling a demon and wizard." 
 
 At this Thusnelda sprang up as if struck by an electric 
 shock — " The surprise, this is what the duke promised me." 
 
 "Very likely," laughed the duchess. "The courier just 
 arrived with a letter from my son to you, and I came to bring 
 it myself, and found you, to my surprise, sleeping here. 
 Eead it, and tell me what he says!" 
 
 " Oh, listen, your highness!" cried Thusnelda, after having 
 hastily perused the contents of the ducal missive. 
 
 " ' I hope I have succeeded to surprise you! 
 Demons and wizards have closed your doors, 
 And weeping you slept on the stairway alone. 
 All witchcraft has now disappeared. Go seek 
 The surprise that from Berlin I brought you, 
 Which I now offer for an atonement. 1 " 
 
 * This tradition of the ghost of the Ilm has been preserved in Weimar, since 
 Goethe's nocturnal bath, until our time.— See Lewes, vol. i., p. 451. 
 
WITCHCRAFT. 249 
 
 "An insolent fellow, indeed, is my son," said the duchess, 
 " but you see, Thusnelda, he says, pater peccavi, and I am 
 convinced that you will find something very pretty and ac- 
 ceptable in your room." 
 
 " I will not take it — indeed I will not," pouted the lady of 
 honor. " He so fearfully tormented me last night. I assure 
 your highness I was half dead with terror and — " 
 
 " And yet you will forgive him, Thusnelda, for the duke 
 is your declared favorite; you dare not reproach him 
 were he never so insolent, for you are just as much so, 
 and not a hair's-breadth better. Come, go up and see what 
 it is." 
 
 She went, and found four masons, who had been at work 
 since daybreak to remove the wall and replace the door. 
 Thusnelda was obliged to laugh in spite of the unhappy night 
 she had passed, as she climbed over rubbish and ruins into 
 her room, and met her maid dissolved in tears, who related to 
 her that " the duke had had her walled in, for fear she would 
 tell the trick to her mistress." 
 
 "And so you were really hermetically sealed?" said the 
 duchess. 
 
 "Yes, your highness," whimpered the maid, "I thought 
 that I never should see daylight again. I wept and prayed 
 all night. The only thing that consoled me was the duke's 
 command, which Philip brought to me, to give this little 
 box to Fraulein so soon as the wall should be taken away in 
 the morning." 
 
 "Give it to me, Lieschen," cried Thusnelda, impatiently, 
 her face beaming with satisfaction, however, when she opened 
 the box. " Now, duchess, that is what I call a surprise, and 
 the duke shall be, as he ever has been, my favorite. If he 
 does sometimes play rude tricks, he makes it all right again, 
 in a very generous and princely manner. See what a beauti- 
 ful watch his highness has brought me, ornamented with 
 diamonds!" 
 
 " Yes, it is very pretty ; gi?3 it to me that I may return it 
 
250 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 to the duke, and not mortify him too much, as you will not 
 wear it." 
 
 "I will accept it, duchess," cried Thusnelda, laughing — 
 " and all is forgiven and forgotten." 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THE PURSE-PROUD MAN. 
 
 "Trude, is there no news from him yet? Have you never 
 seen him since? Did he not tell you about it?" 
 
 "No, my dearest Marie," sighed old Trude. " There is no 
 word, no message from him. I have been twenty times to 
 the baker's in eight days, and waited at the corner of the 
 street, where we agreed to meet, but no Moritz was there, 
 and I have not been able to hear any thing about him." 
 
 "Something must have happened to him," sighed Marie. 
 " He is very ill, perhaps dying, and — " 
 
 " No, no, my child, he is not ill, I will tell you all about it, 
 if you will not worry. I have been to Herr Moritz 's lodgings 
 to-day. I could not wait any longer, and — " 
 
 " Did you see him, and speak with him, Trude?" 
 
 " No Marie, he was not there ; and the people in the house 
 told me that he had been gone for a week." 
 
 "Gone!" repeated Marie, thoughtfully. "What does it 
 mean? What could persuade him to abandon me in this hour 
 of need? Tell me, Trude, what do you think? Console me 
 if you can. You really know nothing further than that he is 
 gone?" 
 
 " A little bit more, but not much, my heart's child. When 
 the people told me that he had disappeared eight days ago, it 
 seemed as if one of the Alps had fallen on my heart, and my 
 limbs trembled so I could go no farther, and I was obliged to 
 sit down upon the stairs and cry bitterly, picturing all sorts of 
 dreadful things to myself." 
 
THE PURSE-PROUD MAN. 25t 
 
 " Dreadful things?" asked Marie. " Oh, Trude, you do 
 not believe that my good, brave Moritz could do any thing 
 sinful and cowardly, like wicked men? You do not think 
 that my beloved — oh, no, no — I know that he is more noble; 
 he will bear the burden of life as I will, so long as it pleases 
 God." 
 
 The old woman hung down her head, and humbly folded 
 her hands. " Forgive me, my child, that I have such weak 
 and sinful thoughts. I will apologize for them in my heart 
 to you and your beloved so long as I live. After I had cried 
 enough, I determined to go to the Gray -Cloister, and beg the 
 director to see me!" 
 
 " Did you see him to speak with him, dear good Trude?" 
 
 " Yes, dear child. I told him I was an aged aunt of Herr 
 Moritz, who had come to Berlin to visit him ; and finding 
 that he was absent, I would like to know where he had gone,, 
 and, how long he would remain away." 
 
 " Oh, Trude, how clever you are, and how kindly you think 
 of everything!" cried Marie, embracing her old nurse, and 
 kissing affectionately her sunburnt, wrinkled cheek. " What 
 did he say?" 
 
 " He told me that Herr Moritz had begged permission to be 
 absent fourteen days to take an urgent, unavoidable journey ; 
 that ten days had already expired, and he would soon return. " 
 
 " Then he will be here in four days, and perhaps will bring 
 hope and aid ! He has gone to seek it ; I know and I feel it, 
 though I cannot divine where the assistance will come from. 
 Oh, Trude, if I could only gain a favorable delay until Mo- 
 ritz returns!" 
 
 " Every thing is arranged," murmured Trude. " The mar- 
 riage license is already made out, and Parson Dietrich has- 
 promised to be ready at any hour. Herr Ebenstreit has sent 
 the money, doubling the amount required to the 'Invalids' 
 Hospital' at Berlin, so that when the papers of nobility ar- 
 rive, there — " 
 
 "Hush!" interrupted Marie, "do not speak of it. It is 
 
OLD FEITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 fearful to think of, and it crazes me to hear it. I will resort 
 to every extreme. Since my father and mother are deaf to 
 my entreaties, I will try to move him to pity. I have never 
 been able to see him alone ; my mother is watchful that an 
 explanation should be impossible between us. I will implore 
 this man to have pity upon me, and confide in him to whom 
 they would sell me." 
 
 Trude shook her head mournfully. " I fear it will be in 
 Tain, dear child. This man has no heart. I have proved 
 him, and I know it. — Hark the bell rings! Who can it 
 be?" 
 
 Both stepped out of the little garret-room to peep over the 
 banister. Since Marie had been betrothed to the rich banker 
 Ebenstreit, the general had received from his kind wife a 
 servant in pompous livery for his own service. This servant 
 had already opened the door, and Marie heard him announce 
 in a loud voice, "Herr Ebenstreit!" 
 
 " He !" Marie started back with horror. " He, so early in 
 "the morning! this is no accident, Trude. What does it 
 mean? Hush! the servant is coming!" 
 
 "I will go down," whispered Trude; "perhaps I can hear 
 something." 
 
 Trude hurried away as her young lady glided back into her 
 room, and never glanced at the servant who sprang past her 
 upon the stairs. 
 
 " He is a hypocrite and a spy ; he has been hired to watch 
 and observe my child, and he will betray her if he discovers 
 any thing." 
 
 The servant announced, with respectful, humble mien, 
 that Herr Ebenstreit had arrived, and Frau von Werrig de- 
 sired her daughter to descend to the parlor. 
 
 "Very well — say that I will come directly." 
 
 The servant remained rubbing his hands in an undecided, 
 embarrassed manner. 
 
 "Why do you not go down?" asked Marie. "Have you 
 .any thing further to tell me?" 
 
THE PURSE-PROUD MAN. 263 
 
 *I would say," said he, spying about the room, as if he 
 were afraid some one were listening, " that if a poor, simple 
 man like myself could be useful to you, and you could confide 
 in me your commissions, I should be too happy to prove to 
 you that Carl Leberecht is an honest fellow, and has a heart, 
 and it hurts his feelings to see the miss suffer so much. " 
 
 "I thank you," said Marie, gently. "I am glad to feel 
 that you have sympathy for me." 
 
 " If I can be of the least service to you, have the goodness 
 to call me, and give me your commissions. M 
 
 "Indeed I will, although I do not believe it practicable." 
 
 " I hope miss will not betray me to Frau von Werrig or old 
 Trude." 
 
 " No, I promise you that, and here is my hand upon it." 
 
 The servant kissed the extended hand respectfully. " I will 
 enter into the service of my young lady at once, and tell her 
 she must prepare for the worst: Herr Ebenstreit just said, 
 'The diploma of nobility has arrived.' " 
 
 Marie turned deadly pale, and for an instant it seemed as 
 if she would sink down from fright, but she recovered herself 
 and conquered her weakness." 
 
 " Thank you, it is very well that I should know that ; I will 
 go down directly," said she. 
 
 With calm, proud bearing Marie entered the sitting-room 
 of her parents, and returned the salutations of her betrothed, 
 who hastened toward her with tender assiduity. 
 
 "My dear Marie," cried her mother, "I have the honor to 
 present to you Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthen. The certificate 
 of nobility arrived this morning." 
 
 " I congratulate you, mother — you have at last found the 
 long-desired heir to your name." 
 
 "Congratulate me above all, my beautiful betrothed," said 
 Herr Ebenstreit, in a hoarse, scarcely intelligible voice. 
 " This title crowns all my wishes, as it makes me your hus- 
 band. I came to beg, dear Marie, that our marriage should 
 take place to-morrow, as there is nothing now to prevent." 
 
254 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 "Sir," she proudly interrupted him, "have I ever per- 
 mitted this familiar appellation?" 
 
 "I have allowed it," blurted out the general, packed m 
 cushions in his rolling chair. " Proceed, my dear son." 
 
 The latter bowed with a grateful smile, and continued: 
 " I would beg, my dear Marie, to choose whether our wedding- 
 journey shall be in the direction of Italy, Spain, France, or 
 wherever else it may please her." 
 
 "Is it thus arranged?" asked Marie. "Is the marriage to 
 take place early to-morrow, and then the happy pair take a 
 journey?" 
 
 "Yes," answered her mother, hastily, "it is so decided 
 upon, and it will be carried out. You may naturally, my 
 dear daughter, have some preference ; so make it known — I 
 am sure your betrothed will joyfully accord it." 
 
 "I will avail myself of this permission," she quietly an- 
 swered. "I wish to have a private conversation with this 
 gentleman immediately, and without witnesses." 
 
 "Oh, how unfortunate I am!" sighed Herr Ebenstreit. 
 " My dear Marie asks just that which I unfortunately cannot 
 grant her." 
 
 "What should prevent your fulfilling my wish?" asked 
 Marie. 
 
 "My promise," he whined. "On the very day of my be- 
 trothal, I was obliged to promise my dear mother-in-law never 
 to speak with you alone or correspond with my sweet lady- 
 love." 
 
 " These are the rules of decency and of etiquette, which I 
 hope my daughter will respect," said Fran von Werrig, in a 
 severe tone. " No virtuous young girl would presume to re- 
 ceive her betrothed alone or exchange love-letters with him 
 before marriage!" 
 
 " After the wedding there will be opportunities enough for 
 such follies," grumbled the general. 
 
 "You may be sure that I shall use them, dear father," 
 laughed Ebenstreit. " I would beg my respected mother to 
 
THE PURSE-PROUD MAN. 255 
 
 release me a half-hour from my oath to-day, that I may in- 
 dulge the first expressed wish that my future wife favors me 
 with." 
 
 "It is impossible, my son. I never deviate from my 
 principles. You will not speak with my daughter before 
 marriage, except in the presence of her parents." 
 
 "Mother, do you insist upon it?" cried Marie, terrified. 
 "Will you not indulge this slight wish?" 
 
 "'This slight wish!'" sneered her mother. "As if I did 
 not know why you ask this private conversation. You wish 
 to persuade our son-in-law to what you in vain have tried to 
 implore your parents to do. A modest maiden has nothing 
 to say to her future husband, which her parents, and above 
 all her mother, could not hear. So tell your betrothed what 
 you desire." 
 
 "Well, mother, you must then take the consequences. — 
 Herr Ebenstreit, they will force me to become your wife, they 
 will sell me as merchandise to you, and you have accepted the 
 bargain in good faith, believing that I agree to sacrifice my 
 freedom and human rights for riches. They have deceived 
 you, sir ! I am not ready to give myself up to the highest 
 bidder. I am a woman, with a heart to love and hate, who 
 esteems affection superior to wealth. I cannot marry you, 
 and I beg you not to teach me to hate you. " 
 
 A savage curse broke forth from the general, who, forget- 
 ting his gout, rose furious, shaking his clinched fist at his 
 daughter. 
 
 His wife was immediately by his side, and pushed him 
 back into his arm-chair, commanding him, in her harsh, cold 
 manner, to remain quiet and take care of his health, and lis- 
 ten to what his son-in-law had to say to his unfeeling and 
 unnatural daughter. " He alone has to decide. — Speak, my 
 dear son," said she, turning to the young man, who, with a 
 malicious smile, had listened to the baroness, fixing his dull- 
 blue eyes upon the young girl, who never seemed so desirable 
 to him, as she now stood before him with glowing cheeks. 
 
256 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 "Again I say, speak, my dear son, and tell my daughter 
 the truth; do you hear, the truth?" 
 
 "If you will permit me, my dearest mother, I will," an- 
 swered Ebenstreit, with submissive kindness, again regarding 
 the daughter. "You have made me a sad confession, Marie," 
 said he, sighing, " but I will acknowledge that I am not sur- 
 prised, for your mother told me when I asked for your hand, 
 that she feared I should never gain your consent, for you did 
 not love me, although she herself, and the general, would 
 grant theirs." 
 
 " Was that all that I told you?" asked the mother, coldly. 
 
 "No, not all," continued Ebenstreit, slightly inclining; 
 "you added, 'My daughter loves a beggar, a poor school-mas- 
 ter, and she entertains the romantic idea of marrying him. ' " 
 
 "And what did you reply?" asked Marie, almost breathless. 
 
 " My dear Marie, I laughed, repeating my proposal of mar- 
 riage to your mother, saying, that I was ready to take up the 
 combat with the poor pedagogue, and that you seemed all the 
 more interesting and amiable for this romantic love. Life 
 is so tedious and wretched, that one is glad to have some 
 change and distraction. I assure you, I have not been so 
 entertained for long years, as in the last fourteen days in this 
 silent war with you. It amuses me infinitely to see you so 
 stubborn and prudish, and increases my love for you. How 
 could it be otherwise? The rich banker, Ebenstreit, has 
 never seen a woman who was not ready to accept his hand, 
 and why should he not love the first one who resists it? You 
 have excited my self-love and vanity. You have made the 
 marriage a matter of ambition, and you will comprehend that 
 my answer is : ' Fraulein von Leuthen must and shall be my 
 wife, no matter what it costs me. She defies my riches and 
 despises money, so I will force her to respect my wealth and 
 recognize its power. Besides, she is a cruel, egotistical 
 daughter, who has no pity for her poor parents, and is capa- 
 ble of seeing them perish for her foolish attachment. I will 
 make her a good child, and force her to make her parents, 
 
THE PURSE-PROUD MAN. 257 
 
 and thereby herself, happy. ' All this I said to myself, and I 
 have acted and shall act accordingly. I have only to add that 
 the ceremony will take place to-morrow, at eleven. • We will 
 leave immediately after. Have the goodness therefore to 
 choose in which direction, that I may at once make the nec- 
 essary arrangements." 
 
 " Lost — lost without hope!" cried Marie, in anguish, cover- 
 ing her face with her hands. 
 
 "Rather say rescued from misfortune," answered Eben- 
 streit, quietly. "Believe me, there is but one sorrow that 
 may not be borne, may not be conquered, and that is poverty, 
 which is a corroding, consuming malady, annihilating body, 
 and soul, swifter and surer than the most subtle poison. It 
 stifles all noble feelings, all poetical thoughts and great deeds, 
 and, believe me, love even cannot resist its terrible power. 
 One day you will understand this. I will be patient and in- 
 dulgent, and await it with hope." 
 
 "Oh, what a noble and high-minded man!" cried the 
 mother, with emphasis. — " Marie should kneel and thank her 
 Maker for such a magnanimous savior and lover, who will 
 shield her from all evil and misfortune." 
 
 Sobbing and sighing, the daughter had stood with her face 
 concealed ; now she regarded the cold-hearted, smiling woman, 
 with flashing eyes and keen contempt. 
 
 "Thank him!" she cried; "no, I accuse, I curse him. He 
 is an atheist, and denies love. He is not capable of a noble 
 thought or action, scorning and defaming all that is beautiful 
 and elevated, worshipping only mammon. I will never marry 
 him. You may force me to the altar, and there I will de- 
 nounce him." 
 
 "She will kill me," cried the general; "she will murder 
 her aged parents, leaving them to starve and perish, and — " 
 
 "Silence!" commanded his wife. "Leave off your com- 
 plaints, she is not worth the tears or remonstrances of her 
 parents. She would try to be our murderess, but she shall 
 not. — My son, inform her of your decision. Answer her." 
 
258 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 "The response to your romantic language is simple and 
 natural, my dear Marie. I have already entered into your 
 feelings, and am prepared for this idea of refusing your lover 
 at the altar, which is found in novels, and I supposed that it 
 might occur to you. Money compasses all things and accord- 
 ing to our wishes. My fortune procures for me a dispensation 
 from public authorities to be married here in the house of our 
 dear parents. The law demands four witnesses, who will be 
 represented by your parents, my servant Philip, and the 
 sacristan whom the clergyman will bring." 
 
 " And they will hear me abjure you." 
 
 " It is very possible, dearest, but the witnesses will not listen 
 to you. Money makes the deaf to hear, and the hearing ones 
 deaf. Old parson Dietrich knows the story of your love, and 
 believes, with us, that it is a malady that you must be cured 
 of. Therefore, in pity to you, he will not listen, and the 
 others are paid to keep silent." 
 
 "Is there no hope, Heaven?" cried Marie, imploringly. 
 " God, Thou hast permitted it — hast Thou no pity in my 
 need, and sendest me no aid?" Rushing to her father, and 
 kneeling at his feet, she continued: "Have mercy upon 
 your poor child ! You are an old man, and may live but a 
 few years; do not burden your conscience with the fearful 
 reproaches of your only child, whom you will condemn to an 
 inconsolably long and unhappy life." 
 
 "Have you no pity yourself? Do you not know that I, 
 your father, am so poor, that I have not even the necessary 
 care? You wish your parents to sacrifice themselves for you, 
 and suffer want! No, the daughter should sacrifice herself 
 for her parents." 
 
 "A beautiful sacrifice, a fine sorrow!" sneered her mother. 
 "She will be a rich woman, and have the most splendid 
 house and furniture and most costly equipage in Berlin!" 
 
 "And a husband who adores her," cried Ebenstreit, "and 
 who will feel it his duty to make her and her parents happy. 
 Resolve bravely to bury the past, and look the immutable 
 
THE PURSE-PROUD MAN. 259 
 
 future joyfully in the face. Eleven will be the happy hour; 
 fear not that the altar will not be worthy the charming bride 
 of such a rich family. Money will procure every thing, and 
 I will send a florist who will change this room into a blooming 
 temple, fit to receive the goddess of love. In your room you 
 will find the gift of my affection, a simple wedding-dress, 
 which I trust you will approve of. Oh, do not shake your 
 head, do not say that you will never wear it ; you must believe 
 now that all resistance is in vain. You will become my wife, 
 for I and my money will it." 
 
 "And I," cried Marie, standing before him pale and de- 
 fiant, regarding him with unspeakable contempt, " I and my 
 love will it not. May God judge between us ! May He for- 
 give those who have brought this misfortune upon me ! I can 
 only say, * Woe to them!' " 
 
 " Woe to you !" cried her mother. " Woe to the seducer 
 who has persuaded our child to sin and crime, and — " 
 
 " Hush mother ! I will not permit you to slander him whom 
 I love, and ever shall, so long — " 
 
 "Until you forget him, and love me, Marie," said Eben- 
 streit. Approaching her, he seized her hand, and pressed a 
 kiss upon it. 
 
 She drew it away with disgust, and turned slowly to the 
 door, tossing back her head proudly. " Where are you 
 going?" demanded her mother. 
 
 With her hand upon the knob, she replied, turning her 
 pale, wan face to her mother, " To my own room, which I 
 suppose is permitted to me, as there is nothing more to be said. " 
 
 Her mother would reply, and retain her, but her son-in-law 
 held her gently back. "Let her go," said he; "she needs 
 rest for composure and to accustom herself to the thought 
 that her fate is unavoidable." 
 
 " But what if she should resort to desperate means in her 
 mad infatuation and foolish passion? Some one must watch 
 her continually, for she may try to elope." 
 
 "You are right, dearest mother, some one must be with 
 
260 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 her, in whom she will confide. Would it not be possible to 
 win old Trade?" 
 
 "No, nothing would gain her; she is a silly fool, who 
 thinks only Marie is of consequence." 
 
 Ebenstreit shrugged his shoulders. "That means that 
 she would sell herself at a high price. I beg that you will 
 send for her." 
 
 "You will see," said she, calling the old woman, who en- 
 tered from the opposite door. 
 
 Trade looked about, scowling and grumbling. " Leberecht 
 told me my mistress called me." 
 
 " Why do you then look so furious, and what are you seek- 
 ing on the table?" asked Frau von Werrig. 
 
 "My money," cried Trade, vehemently. "I thought that 
 you called me to pay me, and that my wages were all counted 
 out on the table. But I see there is nothing there, and I 
 fear I shall get none, and be poor as a church-mouse all my 
 life long. Your honor promised me positively that, as soon 
 as the wedding was decided upon, you would pay me every 
 farthing, with interest, and I depended upon it." 
 
 "You shall have all, and much more than the general's 
 wife promised you, if you will be a true and faithful servant 
 to us," said Ebenstreit. 
 
 "That I always have been, and ever shall be," snarled 
 Trude. " No person can say aught against me. Now, I want 
 my money." 
 
 "And obstinate enough you have been too," said her mis- 
 tress. " Can you deny that you have not always taken my 
 daughter's part?" 
 
 " I do not deny it. I have nursed her from childhood, and 
 I love her as my own child, and would do any thing to make 
 her happy!" 
 
 "Do you believe, Trude," cried the general, "that Marie 
 could be happy with that poor, starving wretch of a school- 
 master? Has she not experienced in her own home the mis- 
 fortune and shame of poverty?" 
 
THE PURSE-PROUD MAN. 261 
 
 "I know it well," sighed the old one, sadly, "and it has 
 converted me to believe that it would be a great misfortune 
 for Marie to marry the poor school-master." 
 
 "Well, will you then faithfully help us to prevent it?'* 
 quickly asked Ebenstreit. 
 
 "How can I do it?" she sighed, shrugging her shoulder. 
 
 " You can persuade my daughter to be reasonable, and yield 
 to that which she cannot prevent. You are the only one who 
 can make any impression upon Marie, as she confides in you. 
 Watch her, that in a moment of passionate desperation she 
 does not commit some rash act. You can tell us, further, 
 what she says, and warn us of any crazy plan she might form 
 to carry out her own will. " 
 
 "That is to say, I must betray my Marie?" cried Trade, 
 angrily. 
 
 "No, not betray, but rescue her. Will you do it?" asked 
 Ebenstreit. 
 
 " I wish to be paid my wages, my two hundred thalers, that 
 I have honestly earned, and I will have them." 
 
 Ebenstreit took a piece of paper from his pocket. Writing 
 a few lines with a pencil, he laid it upon the table. " If you 
 will take this to my cashier after the ceremony to-morrow, he 
 will pay you four hundred thalers." 
 
 "Four hundred thalers in cash," cried Trade, joyfully 
 clapping her hands. "Shall all that beautiful money be 
 mine, and — No, I do not believe you," she cried, her face 
 reassuming its gloomy, suspicious look. " You promise it to 
 me to-day, that I may assist you, and persuade Marie to the 
 marriage, but to-morrow, when old Trade is of no more use, 
 you will send me away penniless. Oh, 1 know how it is. I 
 have lived long enough to understand the tricks of rich peo- 
 ple. I will see the cash first— only for that will I sell 
 myself." 
 
 "The old woman pleases me," said Ebenstreit. "She is 
 practical, and she is right. — If I promise you the money in 
 an hour, will you persuade Marie to cease her foolish resist- 
 
262 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 ance, and be my wife? Will you watch over her, and tell us 
 if any thing unusual occurs?" 
 
 "Four hundred thalers is a pretty sum," repeated Trude, 
 in a low voice to herself. " I might buy myself a place in 
 the hospital, and have enough left to get me a new bed and 
 neat furniture and — " 
 
 Here her voice was lost in unintelligible mumbling, and, 
 much excited, she appeared to count eagerly. With her bony 
 forefinger she numbered over the fingers of her left hand, as 
 if each were a fortune that she must verify and examine. 
 
 The mother and the banker regarded each other with mock- 
 ing looks ; the general looked at the money, grumbling : " If 
 I had had four hundred thalers the last time I played, I could 
 have won back my money in playing again." 
 
 " Old woman," said Ebenstreit, "have you not finished with 
 your reckoning?" 
 
 "Yes," she said, with an exultant laugh, "I have done! 
 Four hundred thalers are not sufficient. I must have five, and 
 if you will give them to me in cash in an hour, then I will do 
 every thing that you wish, and persuade Marie to the mar- 
 riage. I will watch her day and night, and tell you every 
 thing that she says and does. But I must have five hundred 
 in cash!" 
 
 Ebenstreit turned his dull-blue eyes to Frau von Werrig 
 with a triumphant smile. "Did you not tell me the old 
 woman could not be bought? I knew that I was right. 
 You did not offer her money enough ; she will sell herself 
 dear as possible." 
 
 "Yes, as dear as she can," laughed Trude — "five hundred 
 is my price." 
 
 " You shall have it in cash in an hour," said Ebenstreit, in 
 a friendly manner. 
 
 "So much money," whined the general; "it would have 
 saved me if I had had it that last time." 
 
 " My son-in-law, I must confess you are exceedingly gener- 
 ous," remarked the mother. 
 
THE PURSE-PROUD MAN. 263 
 
 u No sum would be too great to assure me my bride. Go 
 now, Trude, you shall have the money in time. — Will you 
 allow me, father, to send your servant to my office for it?" 
 
 "Send Leberecht here, Trude!" 
 
 The old woman hurried out of the room, but the door once 
 closed, her manner changed. One might have supposed a 
 sudden cramp had seized her, from her distorted face, and 
 twitching and panting, and beating the air with her clinched 
 fists, and her quivering lips uttering broken words. 
 
 Approaching footsteps warned her to assume her general 
 manner and expression, and cease her manipulations. " The 
 ladies and gentlemen wish you in the parlor," mumbled Trude 
 to the servant descending the stairs. " But where have you 
 been, and what have you to do up there?" 
 
 "I was looking for you, lovely one — nothing more!" 
 
 " Well, now you have found me, tell me what you want? I 
 know you were sneaking about, listening, because you thought 
 I was with Marie. I understand you better than you think I 
 do. I have found many a viper, and I am familiar with their 
 aspect. Go ! they are waiting for you, and let me find you 
 again spying about, and I will throw a pail of water on you!" 
 
 With this friendly assurance Trude dismissed Leberecht, 
 and hastened with youthful activity to the little garret-room, 
 when Marie fell upon her neck, weeping bitterly. 
 
 " Calm yourself — do not weep so — it breaks my heart, my 
 dear child." 
 
 " And mine cannot break. I must endure all this anguish 
 and survive this shame. Help me, my good mother, stand by 
 me ! It is impossible for me to marry that dreadful man. 
 I have sworn constancy to my beloved Moritz, and I must be 
 firm, or die!" 
 
 "Die? then you will kill me!" murmured the old one, 
 "for, if you go, I must go also. But we will not give up 
 yet, as we are both living ; we will not despair for life. I am 
 going once more to Moritz's lodgings; it may be he has re- 
 turned, and will rescue you," 
 
264 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 " Oh, do, good Trade ; tell him that I have courage and 
 determination to risk and bear every thing — that I will await 
 him; that nothing would be too difficult or dangerous to 
 serve to unite me to him ! Tell him that I prefer a life of 
 poverty and want by his side, to abundance and riches in a 
 splendid palace with that detested creature — but no, say noth- 
 ing about it, he knows it well! If he has returned, tell him 
 all that has happened, and that I am resolved to brave the 
 utmost, to save myself!" 
 
 " I will go, dear child, but I have first my work to do, and 
 enough of it too — but listen to what they have made me be- 
 come." Hastily, in a low voice, she related to Marie the 
 story of her corruption, excited as before, her limbs shaking 
 and her fists clinched. " They say we old women resemble 
 cats, but from to-day forth I know that is a shameful lie ! If 
 I had possessed their nature and claws, I should have sprung 
 at the throat of this rascal, and torn out his windpipe ; but, 
 instead of that, I stood as if delighted with his degrading 
 proposal! Oh, fie! the good-for-nothing kidnapper would 
 tempt a poor creature ! Let us wait, they will get their re- 
 ward. He shall pay me the five hundred thalers, and then 
 this trader of hearts shall recognize that, however much ill- 
 earned money he may throw away, love and constancy are not 
 to be bought. We will teach him a lesson," and with this, 
 the old servant ceased, gasping for breath. 
 
 "Go now, Trade, and learn if he has returned; upon 
 him depends my happiness, and life even — he is my last 
 hope!" 
 
 " I am going, but first I would get the wages of my sin, and 
 play the hypocrite, and tell a few untruths ; then I will go to 
 Moritz's lodgings, and the baker also. Do not despair; I 
 have a joyful presentiment that God will have pity upon us 
 and send us aid." Trade kissed and embraced her child, and 
 scarcely waited an hour, when she was demanded in the parlor 
 to receive her money. 
 
 Herr Ebenstreit was heartily delighted with her zealous im- 
 
THE PURSE-PROUD MAN. 265 
 
 f 
 patience, and handed her ten rolls of gold, reminding her of 
 the conditions. 
 
 " I have already consoled her a little, and she begins to 
 change. I hope every thing will turn for good. Just leave 
 her alone with me." 
 
 " But first, I must go and see my aged brother, who will 
 take care of my money," replied Trude. " He is a safe man 
 and will not spend it." 
 
 "Trude," cried the general, "what an old fool! to seek at 
 a distance what is so near you. I will take your money, and 
 give you interest. Do you hear? I will take care of it !" 
 
 " Thank you, general, I'd rather give it to my brother, on 
 account of the relationship. " She slipped out of the room, 
 hid the money in her bed, and hurriedly left the house. 
 
 Scarcely an hour passed ere Trude returned as fleetly as she 
 went. She cast only a look into the kitchen, and hastened 
 up to Marie's room. Her success was evident in her happy, 
 smiling face, and coming home she had repeated to herself, 
 " How happy Marie will be!" almost the entire way. 
 
 She had but closed the door, when the mean little Lebe- 
 recht glided from behind the chimney, and crept to listen at 
 the door. 
 
 Within was a lively conversation, and twice a shout of joy 
 was heard, and Marie, exultant, cried, "Oh, Trude! dear 
 Trude ! sll goes well, I fear nothing now. God has sent me 
 the savior which I implored!" 
 
 Leberecht stood, bent over, applying his ear to the keyhole, 
 listening to every word. 
 
 Oh, Trude ! if you could only have seen the traitor, glued 
 to the door, with open eyes and mouth! Could you have 
 seen the eavesdropper rubbing his hands together, grinning, 
 and listening in breathless suspense ! 
 
 Why cannot you surprise him, Trude, and fulfil your threat 
 
 to deluge him and chase him away from your child's door? 
 
 They forgot the necessity of prudence, and the possibility of 
 
 being overheard. At last it occurred to the old servant, and 
 
 18 
 
266 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 she tore open the door, but no one was there — it was deserted 
 and still. 
 
 "God be thanked, no one has listened," whispered Trade. 
 " I will go down and tell them that I hope, if we can stay 
 alone all day, you will be calmer and more reasonable." 
 
 " Do it, Trade ; I do not dare to see any one for fear my 
 face will betray me, and my mother has very sharp eyes* 
 Return soon." 
 
 She opened the door, and saw not the eavesdropper and 
 spy, who had but just time to conceal himself, and stand 
 maliciously grinning at the retreating figure of the faithful 
 servant. 
 
 He slipped lightly from his hiding-place down to his sleep- 
 ing-room, in a niche under the stairs. For a long time he 
 reflected, upon his bedside — his watery blue eyes staring at 
 nothing. "This must be well considered," he mumbled. 
 " There is, at last, a capital to be won. Which shall I do 
 first, to grasp a good deal? Shall I wait, or go at once to 
 Herr Ebenstreit? Very naturally they would both deny it, 
 and say that I had made up the whole story to gain money. 
 J had better let the affair go on : they can take a short drive, 
 and when they are about an hour absent, I will sell my secret 
 at a higher price. Now I will pretend to be quite harmless, 
 and after supper let the bomb burst!" 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 THE ELOPEMENT. 
 
 Evening had set in. The card-table had been arranged, 
 and Leberecht had rolled his master to it, taking his place- 
 behind his chair. The hour of whist the general impatiently 
 awaited the entire day, and it was regularly observed. Even 
 in the contract with his adopted son it had been expressly 
 mentioned as a duty, that he should not only secure to them 
 
THE ELOPEMENT. 267 
 
 a yearly income, but also devote an hour to cards every 
 evening. 
 
 Herr Ebenstreit regarded it as a tax, which he must ob- 
 serve until married. The general was much his superior at 
 cards, and, moreover, played the dummy, and the stake being 
 high, it was quite an income for the future father-in-law, and 
 regarded by him as the one bright spot in his daily life. 
 
 The cards had been dealt, and Leberecht had assorted the 
 general's, and placed them in his gouty hand, when Trude 
 entered, exultingly. 
 
 "What has happened? What makes you interrupt us?" 
 cried the general. " Did you not remember that I have told 
 you always not to disturb us at this hour." 
 
 " Yes, general, but I thought good news was never amiss." 
 
 " What have you pleasant to tell us?" harshly demanded 
 Frau von Werrig. 
 
 "My young lady's compliments," cried Trude, trium- 
 phantly ; " she begins to see that she must yield to her fate, 
 and that it will do no good to resist any longer. She will 
 be ready for the ceremony at eleven o'clock to-morrow 
 morning. " 
 
 The general uttered a cry of joy, and struck the table so 
 violently, with his hand, that the cards were thrown together. 
 
 His wile bowed dignifiedly, and the happy bridegroom 
 gave old Tiude some gold-pieces upon the favorable news. 
 
 "Has she, then, been converted by your persuasion?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "Through my persuasion and her own good sense. She 
 understands that, if she cannot marry her dear Moritz, Herr 
 Ebenstreit is the most fit husband, because he loves her, and 
 is so generous to her old parents. One thing she would like 
 an answer to — can I accompany her to her new home?" 
 
 " Yes, old woman, it will be very agreeable to have so sen- 
 sible a person," said Ebenstreit. "Tell Marie that it gives 
 me pleasure to fulfil her wish. " 
 
 " In that case I would repeat that Fraulein begs for indul- 
 
268 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 gence and forbearance until to-morrow, and would like to 
 remain alone to compose herself." 
 
 "Tdo not wish, in the least, to see her," said her mother; 
 *' she can do what she likes until then." 
 
 " I will tell Marie, and she will rejoice," cried Trude. 
 
 " Tell her, from her father, that it is very agreeable to him 
 not to see her pale, wretched-looking face again till morn- 
 ing. — Now, my son, pay attention, and you, Trude, do not 
 presume to interrupt us again. Leberecht, play out my ace 
 of hearts." 
 
 The latter, with his eyes cast down, and with a perfectly 
 indifferent manner, played the card indicated, and Trude left 
 the room quietly and unobserved. 
 
 "Every thing is arranged, my child," said Trude, as she 
 reentered Marie's room. "They are playing cards, which 
 always lasts two hours, then Herr Ebenstreit goes away, and 
 the family will go to bed. You have eighteen hours, before 
 you will be discovered. Hark! it strikes seven, and it is 
 already quite dark. When the post-horn sounds, then it is 
 time." 
 
 " Oh, Trude ! my dear mother, my heart almost ceases to 
 beat, with anxiety, and I quake with fear," sighed Marie. 
 "I am conscious that I have commenced a fearful under- 
 taking!" 
 
 "They have driven you to it — it is not your fault," said 
 Trude, consolingly. " Every human being is free to work out 
 his own good or bad fortune, and, as our dear Old Fritz says, 
 Ho be happy in the future world in his own way. ' They have 
 sold you for money, and you only prove to them that you are 
 no slave." 
 
 "And I prove also that I am a disobedient daughter,** 
 added Marie, trembling. "At this hour, it weighs like a 
 heavy burden upon my heart, and the words of Holy Writ 
 burn into my very soul — 'Honor thy father and thy mother, 
 that it may be well with thee.' " 
 
 "You have honored them all your life," said Trude, sol- 
 
THE ELOPEMENT. 269 
 
 emnly ; " I can witness it before God and man. You have 
 worked for them without thanks or love, receiving only con- 
 tempt. It is also written, 'Thou shalt leave father and 
 mother, and cleave unto thy husband. ' You still follow the 
 commands of God, and may it bring you happiness and blessing. 
 My prayers and thoughts go with you, my child ! a mother 
 could not love her offspring more tenderly than I do you." 
 
 " No mother could more tenderly and faithfully care for her 
 child than you have for me, Trude," cried Marie, pressing 
 her lovingly to her breast. " Through you alone is my rescue 
 possible, for you give us the money to undertake the long 
 journey." 
 
 "Not I,'* she laughed; "it is Herr Ebenstreit, and that 
 makes it the more amusing ; the wicked always set the traps 
 into which they fall themselves." Suddenly the loud, quiver- 
 ing tones of the post-horn were heard, " Es ritten drei Reiter 
 zum Thore hinaus." 
 
 "He has come!" cried Marie, and her face beamed with 
 delight. "He calls me! I am coming! — Farewell, dear, 
 peaceful room, where I have so toiled, wept, and suffered ! I 
 shall never see thee again ! My beloved calls me, and I go to 
 follow him even unto death! Pardon me, God! Thou 
 seest that I cannot do otherwise! They would force me to 
 perjury, and I dare not break my oath! I cannot forsake 
 him whom I love ! — When they curse me, Trude, kneel, and 
 implore God to bless me, who is the Father of love ! My con- 
 science does not reproach me. I have worked for them when 
 they needed it; now their adopted son, to whom they have 
 sold their name, allows them a yearly rent, and I can work for 
 myself." ' 
 
 " Hark! there is the post-horn again, you must go," mur- 
 mured Trude, struggling to force back her tears. 
 
 "Bless me, mother," implored Marie, kneeling. 
 
 "God's blessing go with you," she said, laying her hands 
 upon her head, " and may it render of no avail the curses of 
 men, but permit you to walk in love and happiness!" 
 
£70 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 * Amen, amenT sighed Marie, " now farewell, dear mother, 
 farewell!" 
 
 Marie rose, and kissing Trude again, flitted down the stairs, 
 and ont of the house, Trnde following, holding her breath 
 and listening in fearful excitement. 
 
 Again resounded the post-horn. 
 
 "They are gone," murmured Trude, bowing her head and 
 praying long and fervently. 
 
 The general was particularly fortunate this evening, which 
 caused him to be unusually cheerful and satisfied. After 
 every rubber he gathered up the thalers, until he had amassed 
 a most satisfactory pile. As the clock struck ten, Frau von 
 Werrig declared that they must finish and go to bed. 
 
 The general yielded, with a sigh, to her decision, for he 
 knew, by long years of experience, that it would be in vain to 
 defy her will. He shoved his winnings into a leather bag, 
 which he always carried with him, and gave Leberecht the 
 order to roll away his chair, when the servant, with a solemn 
 bow, stepped closely to him, and begged the general to listen 
 to him a moment. 
 
 " Well, what have you to say?" he asked. 
 
 " I have only one request — that you will permit me to prove 
 that I am a faithful servant, who looks out for the good of 
 his employers. You have given Trude five hundred thalers 
 that she might watch over your daughter. I can show you 
 how well she deserved it, and how differently yoar humble 
 servant would have done. — Have the goodness, Frau von Wer- 
 rig, to call Trude to bid Fraulein come down, for you have 
 something important to communicate to her." 
 
 His mistress proudly regarded him and seemed to try to 
 read his meaning in his smiling, humble face. " And if my 
 daughter comes, what have you to say?" 
 
 " If she comes, then I am a miserable fool and scoundrel, 
 but I beg you to call Trude." 
 
 It was a long time before the old woman appeared, confused 
 and sleepy, asking — "what they wanted at such a late hour?" 
 
THE ELOPEMENT. 271 
 
 " Go and tell my daughter that I wish to see her at once." 
 
 Trade trembled, but composed herself, saying, " There is 
 time enough to-morrow. Fraulein has been asleep a long 
 time." 
 
 "She lies," sneered Leberecht, taking the precaution to 
 protect himself behind the general's arm-chair. " She knows 
 that she is not in bed. " 
 
 "Oh, you sneak, you rascal," cried Trade, shaking her fist 
 at him, " how dare you say that I tell a lie? How can such 
 a miserable creature as you impute to others what you do 
 yourself every time that you open your mouth?" 
 
 " Frau von Werrig, she is only quarrelling, in order to gain 
 time — every moment is precious. I beg you to go up-stairs, 
 and see for yourself, if your daughter is there." 
 
 " Fraulein has locked the door so as not to be disturbed." 
 
 "Ah," said Leberecht, "Trade has locked it, and has the 
 key in her pocket." 
 
 " Give up the key," shrieked the general, who in vain tried 
 to rise, " or I will call the police, and send you to prison." 
 
 " Do it, but I will not give it to you." 
 
 " Do you not see she has it?" cried Leberecht. 
 
 " Oh, you wretch, I will pay you — I will scratch your eyes 
 out, you miserable creature!" 
 
 "Trade, be quiet," commanded Ebenstreit; "the general 
 orders you to give up the key — do it!" 
 
 "Yes, do it at once," shrieked Frau von Werrig, "or I will 
 dismiss you from my service." 
 
 " That you will not have to do, as I shall go myself. I will 
 not give up the key." 
 
 " The door is old, and with a good push one could open it," 
 said Leberecht. 
 
 "Come, my son, let us see," said the mother. 
 
 They hastened up to the room, while the general scolded 
 furiously that he must sit still. Leberecht and Trade cast 
 furious, menacing glances at each other. 
 
 Suddenly a loud crash was heard. 
 
272 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 "They have broken open the door!" cried the general. 
 
 " I said that it was old and frail — what do you say now, 
 beautiful Trude?" 
 
 The old woman wiped with her hand the drops of perspi- 
 ration from her forehead, caused by her anguish. " You are 
 a bad fellow, and God will punish you for your treason, that 
 you have tormented a noble, unhappy girl. I saw that you 
 were an eavesdropper, and you know all." 
 
 " She is gone!" shrieked the mother, rushing into the room. 
 
 "The room is empty," cried Ebenstreit. "Marie is not 
 there. Tell us, Leberecht, what you know about it. " 
 
 " I will, if we can agree about the pay — the old woman 
 bothers me, and beg the young gentleman to go into the 
 next room with me." 
 
 " Almighty God, have compassion upon my poor little 
 Marie," murmured Trude, kneeling, and covering her face. 
 
 Ebenstreit in the mean time withdrew to the other room, 
 followed by the servant. 
 
 " Speak !" commanded his master, " and tell me what you 
 have to say." 
 
 Leberecht shrugged his shoulders. " We are two men who 
 have urgent business with each other. I am not at present a 
 servant and you the master. I am a man who has an impor- 
 tant secret to sell, and you are the man who would buy it." 
 
 "What strange, unheard-of language is this?" said Eben- 
 streit, astonished. 
 
 " The language of a man who cannot only deprive the rich 
 banker Ebenstreit of a lovely wife, but of his title also. You 
 said yourself, sir, this morning, that it was only valid if you 
 succeeded in marrying the daughter of General von Leu then. 
 No none knows where you can find your bride but me." 
 
 "And Trude," said Ebenstreit, quickly. 
 
 " You know she will not betray Eraulein, and you have not 
 even tried to make her. " 
 
 " You are mistaken; Trude is as easily bought as any one." 
 
 " You say that because she has taken five hundred thalers 
 
UNDER THE STARRY HEAVENS. 273 
 
 from yon. She has not helped you, and it is useless to ask 
 for your money, as she has not got it. " 
 
 " How so? Has she given it away?" 
 
 " You provided the money for your bride to run away and 
 marry elsewhere, as Trude gave it to them." 
 
 Ebenstreit stamped his foot with rage, striding backward 
 and forward in furious excitement, while Leberecht watched 
 him, sardonically smiling. " Let us come to an end with this 
 business," said Ebenstreit, stopping before his servant. " You 
 know where Fraulein can be found, and you wish to sell the 
 secret — tell me your price. " 
 
 "Three thousand thalers, and a clerkship in your bank, 
 which you intend to continue under another name." 
 
 " You are beside yourself. I am not so foolish as to grant 
 such senseless demands." 
 
 " Every hour that you wait I demand a thousand thalers 
 more, and if you stop to reflect long your betrothed and your 
 title both are lost." 
 
 "You are a miserable scamp!" cried Ebenstreit, enraged; 
 " I will inform the police. There are means enough to force 
 you to give the information." 
 
 " I do not believe it. Trude will not tell you, and I should 
 like to know what can force me if I will not. The king has 
 done away with torture, and I have informed you how to 
 make me speak. Three thousand thalers and a clerkship in 
 your office. Take care ! it is almost eleven o'clock — at mid- 
 night I shall demand four thousand." 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 UNDER THE STARRY HEAVENS. 
 
 It was a beautiful, clear, moonlight night. The world re- 
 posed in silence. Mankind with their cares and sorrows, 
 their joys and hopes, had gone to rest. Over town and vil- 
 
274 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 lage, over highway and forest had flitted the sweet, consoling 
 angel — Sleep. The sad were soothed, the heavy-laden were 
 lightened of their burdens, to the despairing were brought 
 golden dreams, to the weary rest. Sighing and sorrowful, 
 he turned from those with a sad face whose conscience ban- 
 ished repose, and, ah! their number was legion. To the 
 wakeful and blissful he smilingly glanced, breathing a prayer 
 and a blessing; but these were few and far between — for 
 happiness is a rare guest, and tarries with mortals but fitfully. 
 As he glided past the joyful couple who, with watchful love 
 and grateful hearts, sat in the carriage rolling over the silent, 
 deserted highway, two tears fell from his eyes, and his starry 
 wings were wider outspread to rush more quickly past. 
 
 "Look, my dear Marie, two stars just fell from heaven. 
 They are a greeting to you, loved one, and they would say 
 they guide us on our way." 
 
 " Oh, Philip, it is a sign of ill-luck ! Falling stars betoken 
 misfortune!" 
 
 She clung closer to his side, and laid her head upon his 
 shoulder. He pressed her more lovingly to his heart. " Do 
 not fear, dear Marie; separation only could cause us un- 
 happiness — we have long borne it, and now it is forever past. 
 You have given yourself to me for my own, and I am yours, 
 heart and soul ; we speed on through the night to the morn- 
 ing of the bright, sunny future, never more to be parted." 
 
 "Never!" she fervently murmured. "Oh, may God hear 
 our prayer. Never, never to part ! Yet, while the word falls 
 from my lips, a shudder creeps through my soul." 
 
 "Wherefore this despair, dearest? Reflect, no one will be 
 apprised of our flight till early morning, and then they will 
 not know whither we have fled. Meanwhile we rush on to 
 Hamburg, where a packet-ship sails every Wednesday for 
 England ; arriving there, we will first go to Suffolk, to my 
 old friend the vicar of Tunningham. I was his guest many 
 weeks last year, and he often related to me the privilege 
 which had been conferred on the parish church for a long 
 
UNDER THE STARRY HEAVENS. 275 
 
 time to perform valid marriages for those to whose union 
 there were obstacles interposed elsewhere. He will bless the 
 union of our love, and will accord me the lawful right to call 
 you my own before God and man. We will not return at once 
 to Germany. I have many connections and literary friends 
 in London, who will assist me to worthy occupation. Be- 
 sides, I closed an agreement some weeks since with the pub- 
 lisher Nicolai in Berlin for a new work. I will write it in 
 London; it will be none the less favored coming from a 
 distance." 
 
 " My flowers and paintings will also be as well received in 
 London as in Berlin," added Marie, smilingly. 
 
 " No, Marie, you shall not work. I shall have the precious 
 care of providing for you, which will be my pride and happi- 
 ness. Oh, my beloved, what a crowning bliss to possess a 
 sweet, dear wife, who is only rich in imperishable treasures, 
 and poor in external riches! What delight to toil for her, 
 and feel that there lives in my intellect the power to grant 
 her every wish, and to compensate her in the slightest degree 
 the boundless wealth of her affection! To a loving mind 
 there is no prouder, happier feeling than to be the only source 
 of support to the wife of his love — to know that she looks to 
 him for the fulfilment of her slightest wish in life. I thank 
 my Maker that you are poor, Marie, and that I am permitted 
 to toil for you. How else could I reward you for all you have 
 sacrificed for me?" 
 
 " You cannot suppose, dear Philip, that the riches of my 
 obtrusive lover would have been any attraction to me. 
 Money could never compensate for the loss of your love. You 
 are my life, and from you alone can I receive happiness or un- 
 happiness. At your side I am rich and joyous, though we 
 may outwardly need; without you I should be poor with 
 superfluity. I am proud that we in spirit have freed ourselves 
 from those fictitious externals with which the foolish burden 
 themselves. Oh, my beloved Philip, my whole soul is exul- 
 tant that we are never more to part — no, not even in eternity, 
 
276 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 for I believe that love is an undying sentiment, and the soul 
 can never be darkened by death which is beaming with affec- 
 tion." 
 
 "You are rights Marie, love is the immortality of the soul; 
 through it man is regenerated and soars to the regions of 
 eternal light. When I recall how desolate and gloomy was 
 'my life, how joyless the days dragged on before I loved you, I 
 almost menaced Heaven that it created me to wander alone 
 through this desert. The brightest sun's rays now gild my 
 future, and it seems as if we were alone in paradise, and that 
 the creation entire glorified my happiness, and all the voices 
 of Nature shouted a greeting to you, dearest. Oh, Marie, if 
 I lived a thousand years, my heart would retain its youthful 
 love "and adoration for you, who have saved me from myself, 
 have freed my soul from the constraining fetters of a sad, joy- 
 less existence. Repose your head upon my heart, and may it 
 rest there many happy years, and receive in this hour my oath 
 to love, esteem, and honor you as my most precious treasure! 
 You shall be wife, child, sister, and friend. My soul shall be 
 frank and open to you ; for you I will strive and toil, and will 
 cherish and foster the happiness received from you as my 
 most treasured gift. Give me your hand, Marie." 
 
 She laid it within his own strong, manly hand, gently 
 pressing it. 
 
 The large full moon, high above them, lighted up these 
 noble faces, making the eyes, which were bent upon each other, 
 more radiant. Swiftly the carriage rolled on, the night- 
 breeze fanning their cheeks and waving back their raven curls. 
 
 Moritz raised their clasped hands, and gazed at the starry 
 heaven. 
 
 "We lift them up unto Thee, God. Thou hast heard 
 my oath, Eternal Spirit, who dwellest among the stars; re- 
 ceive it, and bless the woman I love!" 
 
 " Receive also my oath, my Maker. Regard the man to 
 whom I have sworn eternal fidelity, bless him, and bless me. 
 Let us live in love and die in constancy." 
 
UNDER THE STARRY HEAVENS. 277 
 
 Moritz responded, "Amen, my beloved, amen!" 
 
 They embraced each other fervently. Onward rolled the 
 carriage through the tranquil, blissful night. Oh why can- 
 not these steeds borrow wings from the night- wind? Why 
 cannot the soaring spirit bear aloft its earthly tenement? 
 With divine joy and heavenly confidence you gaze at the 
 stars. You smilingly interchange thoughts of the blissful 
 future, whilst dire misfortune approaches, and will soon seize 
 you in its poisonous grasp! Do you not hear it? Does not 
 the echo of swift-prancing steeds ring in your ears? Do you 
 not hear the shrieking and calling after you ? 
 
 They listen only to the voice of tenderness speaking in their 
 hearts, and would that the solemn quiet of this dialogue 
 might not be broken by a loud word from their lips. 
 
 The post-horn sounded! They halted at a lonely house 
 near the highway. It is the station. Change horses ! There 
 is not a light to be seen. Three times the postilion blew a 
 pealing blast ere they could awake the inmates. The window 
 was at last opened, and a sleepy, complaining voice questioned 
 the number of horses and the distance of the next post. 
 
 Slowly they were brought forward, and still more slowly 
 were they attached to the carriage, and all arranged. W T hat 
 matters it? The night is lovely, and like a dream it seems to 
 remain under the starry heavens, spread out like a canopy 
 above them. 
 
 Does not your heart tell you that sorrow strides on like the 
 storm? Do you not hear the voices still shrieking after you? 
 
 The postilion mounted his horse, and again the trumpet 
 pealed forth its merry air, and was answered with a shout of 
 triumph from the swift pursuers. 
 
 Marie raised her head from Philip's shoulder. " What was 
 it? Did you not hear it?" 
 
 "What, my beloved, what should I hear? Do the stars 
 salute you? Do the angels greet their sister upon earth?" 
 
 "Hark! there it is again! Do you not hear it? Listen I 
 does it not seem as if one called 'Halt! haltf M 
 
278 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 " Yes, truly, I hear it now also ! What can happen, love? 
 Why trouble ourselves about the outer world and the existence 
 of other beings?" 
 
 " I know not, but I am so anxious, my heart almost ceases 
 to beat, with terror!" 
 
 "Halt! halt!" the wind carries forward the shriek, and 
 above their heads it sounds like the screeching of ravens. 
 
 "Strange! For whom are they calling?" Moritz looked 
 back along the highway. White and clear it lay in the 
 moonlight, but, far in the distance was a black mass, taking 
 form and shape at every moment ! 
 
 Horsemen ! horsemen ! in full speed they come ! 
 
 "Postilion! drive on! quick! Let the horses gallop! 
 There is a forest near — drive us to that, that we may hide 
 ourselves in the thicket! Onward, postilion! we are not 
 thieves or murderers. A hundred thalers are yours, if you 
 save us!" 
 
 The postilion beat his horses ! In full chase they followed 
 — more and more distinctly were heard the curses and yells. 
 
 "Oh, God in heaven, have mercy upon us in our need!" 
 
 " Faster, postilion ! — in mercy, faster !" 
 
 "Halt! halt! — in the name of the king, halt!" 
 
 This startled the postilion, and he turned to listen, and 
 again a furious voice yelled, " In the name of the king, halt!" 
 
 The postilion drew up. " Forgive me, sir, but I must re- 
 spect the name of the king." 
 
 Forward galloped the horsemen. 
 
 "Philip," whispered Marie, "why do we live — why do wo 
 not die?" 
 
 He folded her in his arms, and passionately kissed her, per- 
 haps for the last time. " Marie, be mindful of our oath — 
 constant unto death!" 
 
 "Constant unto death!" she repeated. 
 
 " Be firm and defy all the storms of life!" 
 
 Marie repeated it, with heightened courage. 
 
 The horsemen surrounded the carriage, the riders upon 
 
UNDER THE STARRY HEAVENS. 279 
 
 panting steeds ! Two officers in uniform sprang to the side, 
 laying their hands upon Moritz 's shoulder. "Conrector 
 Philip Moritz, we arrest you in the name of the king! You 
 are accused of eloping with a minor, and we are commanded 
 to transport you to Spandau until further orders!" Upon 
 the other side two other horsemen halted. The foremost was 
 Herr Ebenstreit, who laid his hand upon Marie, and saw not 
 or cared not that she shudderingly shrank away. 
 
 " My dear Marie, I come as the ambassador of your parents, 
 and am fully empowered to lead your back to your father's 
 house." 
 
 She answered not, but sat immovable and benumbed with 
 terror, the tears rolling down her cheeks. 
 
 "You arrest me in the name of the king," cried Moritz; 
 " I bow to the law. I beg only to speak to that man," point- 
 ing to Ebenstreit, with contempt. "Sir, dismount, I have 
 important business with you !" 
 
 "We have nothing to say to each other," answered Eben- 
 streit, calmly. 
 
 " But I !" cried Moritz, springing forward, furious as a 
 lion, "I have something to say to you, you rascal, and I will 
 treat you accordingly!" 
 
 He savagely tore the whip from the postilion's hand, and 
 struck Ebenstreit in the face. "Now," cried he, trium- 
 phantly, "I have forced you to give me satisfaction!" 
 
 The police swung themselves from their saddles, and Lebe- 
 recht quickly dismounted. They clinched Moritz by the feet 
 and hands. It was a desperate struggle, and Marie gazed at 
 them with folded hands, praying without words. They seized 
 him and held him fast with manacles. A shriek, and Marie 
 sank fainting. Moritz 's head sank upon his breast, almost 
 in the agony of death. 
 
 "Take him to the next station, my friends," commanded 
 Ebenstreit, " the carriage is already ordered to remove him to 
 Spandau." He dismounted, and now took the place by 
 Marie, who still lay in a dead faint. " Postilion, mount and 
 
280 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 turn your carriage, I retain you until the next station. If 
 you drive quickly, there is a louis d'or for you." 
 
 "I will drive as if the devil were after me, sir!" shouted 
 the postilion, and turned to gallop off, when Ebenstreit 
 ordered him to halt, and Leberecht to get up on the box. 
 
 Then turning to the officers, "Gentlemen," said he, 
 proudly, " you are witnesses to the ill-treatment and insults of 
 this woman-stealer. You will certify that the blood flowed 
 down my face." 
 
 "I will myself make it known before all men," cried Mo- 
 ritz, with a contemptuous laugh. " I have insulted you and 
 branded you." 
 
 "We will give our evidence," respectfully replied the 
 officers. " As soon as we have delivered our prisoner at Span- 
 dau, we will announce ourselves to you." 
 
 " Then you will receive from me the promised reward of a 
 hundred thalers. If you hush up the entire adventure, so 
 that it is not noised about, after three months, still another 
 hundred." 
 
 " We will be silent, Herr Ebenstreit." 
 
 " I believe you ; a hundred thalers is a pretty sum. For- 
 ward, Leberecht, make the postilion push on, that we may 
 arrive in Berlin before daybreak, and no one know of this 
 abominable affair." 
 
 The postilion laughed with delight, at the thought of the 
 louis d'or. Upon the box sat Leberecht, a smile of malicious 
 triumph upon his face. " This has been a lucky night," said 
 he; "we have all done a good business, but I am the most 
 fortunate, with my three thousand thalers and a fine place. 
 I wish he had waited an hour later, and then I should have 
 had another thousand!" 
 
 Ebenstreit sat with triumphant smile also, by his betrothed. 
 " Money is the king of the world — with it one can accomplish 
 all things," said he to himself; "if I had been a poor fellow, 
 the general would not have chosen me, nor the king have 
 given me a title, nor could I have won back my beautiful 
 
THE SACRIFICE. 281 
 
 bride. Money gives position, and I hope will give me the 
 power to revenge myself for the pain in my face." He turned 
 menacingly toward Moritz, who saw it not. 
 
 With bowed head, speechless, as if numb with the horror 
 of his misfortune, he rode with fettered hands between the 
 two officers, incapable of fleeing, as they had even bound a 
 cord around his arms, each end held fast by one of the riders. 
 
 The stars and the moon shone down upon him as brightly 
 beautiful as an hour previous. Oh, Marie, you were right, 
 falling stars betoken misfortune ! Your star has fallen ! 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 THE SACRIFICE. 
 
 Since that painful night, four weeks had passed, four long 
 ones to poor old Trude. To her beloved child they had fled 
 in happy unconsciousness. In the delirium of fever, her 
 thoughts wandered to her lover, always dwelling upon her 
 hopes and happiness. In the intervals of reason she asked for 
 him with fearful excitement and anxiety, then again her 
 mind was clouded, and the cry of anguish was changed into 
 a smile. 
 
 Then came the days of convalescence and the return to 
 consciousness, and with it the mourning over crushed hopes. 
 Slowly had Trude, the faithful nurse, who watched by her 
 bedside day and night, answered her excited questions, and 
 related to her little by little the circumstances of the elope- 
 ment — how Leberecht had played the eavesdropper and sold 
 Marie's secret for gold ; how he had previously arranged to 
 pursue them, informing the police, ordering the horses, and 
 sending forward a courier to provide fresh relays at every 
 station. 
 
 Trude depicted the anger of her father and the threats of 
 
 her mother to send her to prison. But before she could exe- 
 19 
 
282 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 cnte her purpose, Ebenstreit had brought home the uncon- 
 scious child, and she herself had lifted her from the carriage 
 and borne her, with the aid of her mistress, to her own little 
 attic room. 
 
 Marie listened to these relations with a gloomy calmness 
 and a defiant sorrow. Illness had wrought a peculiar change 
 in her mind, and hardened the gentle, tender feelings of the 
 young girl. Grief had steeled her soul, benumbed her heart, 
 and she had risen from her couch as one born anew to grief 
 and torture. Her present situation and lost happiness had 
 changed the young, loving, tenderly-sensitive maiden to the 
 courageous, energetic, and defiant woman, who recognized a 
 future of self-renunciation, combat, and resignation. 
 
 Trude observed these changes with disquietude and care. 
 She wished Marie would only once complain, or burst into 
 tears. After the first storm of despair had passed, the tears 
 refused to flow, and her eyes were bright and undimmed. 
 Only once had profound emotion been awakened, as Trude 
 asked her if she had forgotten her unhappy lover, and cared 
 no more to learn his fate. It had the desired effect. 
 
 A deathly paleness overspread her delicate, transparent 
 cheek. "I know how he is," she said, turning away her 
 face, " I realize his sufferings by my own. We are miserable, 
 lost — and no hope but in death. Ere this comes, there is a 
 desert to traverse in heat, and dust, and storm, and frost, 
 alone, without consolation or support. Hush, Trude ! do not 
 seek to revive miserable hopes. I know my fate, and I will 
 endure it. Tell me what you know about him? Where is 
 he? Have they accused him? Speak! do not fear to tell me 
 everything!" But fearing herself, she threw her handker- 
 chief quickly over her face, and sat with it covered whilst 
 Trude spoke. 
 
 " I know but little of poor, dear Moritz. He has never re- 
 turned to his lodgings. A day or two after that night, two 
 officers sealed his effects, and took away his clothes. His 
 hostess has not the least suspicion of the mysterious dis- 
 
THE SACRIFICE. 283 
 
 appearance of her otherwise quiet, regular lodger. The secret 
 of the elopement has been carefully guarded, as no one of the 
 neighbors know it, and there is no gossip about you and Mo- 
 ritz. Those who think he is travelling are not surprised at 
 his having left without taking leave, as they say he was ac- 
 customed to do so. But," continued Trude, in a lower tone, 
 " Herr Gedicke looked very sad and grave, as I asked for the 
 Conrector Moritz. *He has disappeared,' he sighed, 'and I 
 know not if we shall ever see him again.' 'Oh, Jemima!' I 
 screamed, 'you do not think that he has committed a self- 
 injury?' 'No,' said the director, 'not he himself, he is too 
 honorable a man. Others have ill-treated him and made him 
 unhappy for life. ' It was in vain to ask further ; he knew 
 not or he would not say any thing. I believe your family 
 know where poor Moritz is, for your mother speaks of him as 
 one in the penitentiary, and quite triumphantly she told me 
 yesterday that the king, in his new book of laws, had ex- 
 pressly condemned the person who elopes with a minor to be 
 sent to the house of correction for ten years, and then she 
 laughed so cruelly, that I trembled to hear her." 
 
 As Trude related this, she searchingly glanced at Marie to 
 observe the effect of her words, hoping to see her weep or 
 complain, and that, at last, grief would melt the icy crust 
 around her heart. 
 
 But Marie sat motionless and without uttering a sound — 
 not a sigh or a moan escaped her. After a loug silence, 
 when her grief was too deep for tears, she drew the handker- 
 chief from her face, the pallor and rigidity of which startled 
 Trude. 
 
 She sprang forward, folding her in her arms. "Marie, 
 child of my heart, do weep, do complain ! I know that he 
 loved you dearly, and deserves that you should mourn for 
 him. Have you no more confidence, though, in your old 
 Trude? Is she no longer worthy to share your grief?" 
 
 Marie laid her languid head upon the bosom of her faithful 
 nurse; a long-drawn, piercing cry of anguish was her re- 
 
-284: OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 sponse, she trembled violently, and the tears ran down her 
 cheeks. 
 
 Trade raised her eyes to heaven, murmuring, " I thank 
 thee, Lord! Her heart is not dead! It lives, for it 
 suffers!" 
 
 "It suffers," groaned Marie, "the anguish of death. " 
 
 This passionate outburst of feeling was of but short du- 
 ration. Her tears were dried, and her quivering face assumed 
 its usually calm expression. 
 
 "Trude," said she, gently, continuing to repose upon her 
 bosom, " I am so wretched that words cannot express it or 
 tears soothe it. If I should give myself up to sorrow and 
 mourning I should die, and that cannot be, for I must live to 
 wait for him — to rescue him. How I know not yet; my 
 thoughts and resolutions are so confused that they flicker like 
 the ignes fatui. I will force my mind to be calm, and these 
 wandering lights shall unite in one glowing flame to destroy 
 the walls and obstructions which confine him. He is a 
 prisoner ; I feel it in my heart, and I must live to free him. 
 This is my task, and I will accomplish it ; therefore I would 
 be composed, and strong in myself. Wonder not that I weep 
 or complain no more, and do not refer to my misfortune. I 
 should die if I did not suppress this anguish, and I would be- 
 come strong and active. Seek not to enfeeble me, but aid 
 me to harden myself ; refrain from complaint, that I may be 
 silent. I think only of him, and I ask nothing further than 
 to yield my life to free him. Let us never speak of it again, 
 for I feel that all the firmness which I had gained has been 
 swept from me in this giving way, and that I must begin 
 anew." 
 
 From this hour she commenced to build, and rose upon her 
 grief as on a column which projects toward heaven ; leaned 
 upon it, and received, as Brisaeus from the earth, the power 
 of life and action. She had already so conquered herself as 
 to be able to leave her own quiet room, and descend to that 
 of her parents. There she would sit calmly for hours, listen" 
 
THE SACRIFICE. 285 
 
 ing attentively to the conversation, hoping to catch some 
 woid that might give her a clew. 
 
 They avoided every exciting topic, and were milder and 
 more thoughtful for her. Even her mother made no re- 
 proaches, and never alluded to the past, because she feared to 
 telay her recovery, and remove the longed-for goal in hinder- 
 ing the marriage with Ebenstreit. The latter carefully 
 avoided troubling her by his presence; when he heard Marie's 
 step in the anteroom, who descended at a certain hour every 
 day, he withdrew by the other entrance. 
 
 "Who goes out every time I come in?" asked Marie, one 
 day as she appeared in the sitting-room. 
 
 The general coughed with embarrassment, and glanced 
 anxiously at his wife, whose eyes rested upon her daughter 
 with a cold, searching expression. Their eyes met, and were 
 riveted upon each other. A cold, cruel smile played around 
 the thin, bloodless lips of the mother as she recognized the 
 defiance and firmness in her child, and felt that she had 
 recovered. 
 
 " It is your betrothed," she answered, "our dear Ebenstreit 
 — a good, generous, and self-sacrificing son, for whom we 
 thank God every day, who wishes to spare you the annoyance 
 of seeing him." 
 
 "He need not inconvenience himself on my account. 
 ^Nothing excites or wounds my feelings now. It would be a 
 pity for your heartless, thankless daughter to deprive you of 
 the society of your dear son. Let him remain ; it is not nec- 
 essary for us to notice one another. " 
 
 Her parents regarded each other astonished, and, as she 
 ceased, they still listened to the dying tones of her voice, 
 which sounded so strangely to them. " She is much changed, " 
 mumbled the general to himself. " She does not seem the 
 same person, she is so haughty and majestic. She might well 
 inspire fear." 
 
 The following day, as Marie entered the room, Ebenstreit 
 was there. He approached her, extending both hands smil- 
 
286 OLD FEITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 ing, and greeting her with tender words, rejoicing at her 
 recovery. 
 
 She took no notice of his friendly demonstrations, but 
 coldly and harshly regarded his smiling face, and particu- 
 larly the broad, blood-red scar which ran from forehead to 
 chin. Then suddenly her face lighted up, and an expression 
 of savage triumph shot from her eyes. "How disfigured 
 you look," she cried exultingly. "Where did you get that 
 scar?" 
 
 "You know well, Marie," he murmured, gloomily. 
 
 " Yes," she cried, triumphantly. " I know it. He branded 
 you, and you will wear this mark before God and man as long 
 as you live." 
 
 "You are very cruel to remind me of it, Marie," he softly 
 whispered. 
 
 She laughed aloud so wild and savagely, that even her 
 mother was startled. "Cruel — I cruel!" she cried. "Ah, 
 sir, it becomes you indeed to accuse me of it!" 
 
 Trude entered at this instant, pale and excited. 
 
 "What is the matter?" 
 
 " There is some one here who wishes to speak with yotx, 
 Marie; he has something very important to tell you." 
 
 " How dare you announce any one without my permission?" 
 cried Frau von Werrig. 
 
 " Silence, mother ! — if I may be allowed, let us hear who it 
 is. — Speak, dear Trude, who is it?" 
 
 "It is the Director Gedicke from the Gray Cloister," sail 
 Trude, with quivering voice. 
 
 Marie was startled — a glowing red overspread her cheel:^ 
 and she was obliged to lean against a chair for support. 
 
 "I forbid you to receive him," said her mother. 
 
 She suddenly ceased, and stared at the door, which opened 
 at that moment, the tall, dignified form of a venerable old 
 man appearing. 
 
 "Pardon me, sir," said he, with a cold, reserved manner, 
 " if I enter before I receive permission. The command of the 
 
THE SACRIFICE. 287 
 
 king, to which I believe we all yield without resistance, em- 
 powers me to do so." 
 
 "How, sir, you come by the king's order?" asked the gen- 
 eral, who rose with difficulty. " Has his majesty given you a 
 message for General von Leuthen?" 
 
 "No, general, I come with a communication from his 
 majesty to Fraulein von Leuthen, the betrothed of Herr 
 Ebenstreit, and the order runs to deliver the same personally 
 and without witnesses." 
 
 "Professor," cried the mother, shrugging her shoulders, 
 " you mistake us for very innocent people, if you suppose we 
 believe this silly invention, and that you can gain a secret 
 conversation by a ruse with our daughter. You are the 
 director of the gymnasium, and naturally the friend of Con- 
 rector Moritz. In his name you will speak, and bring a 
 secret message. Very sly, indeed, very sly, but it will not 
 succeed." 
 
 For response, the director drew two large folded documents 
 from his pocket, approaching the general. " Do you recog- 
 nize this seal?" he asked. 
 
 "Yes," solemnly answered the general; "it is the royal 
 seal from the king's private cabinet." 
 
 "Bead the address upon this, and the unopened letter." 
 
 "Truly, the latter is directed to my daughter, and the 
 other to Professor Gedicke." 
 
 Herr Gedicke opened the letter, asking the general if he 
 could recognize the king's handwriting. 
 
 " Yes," he answered, " I know it well." 
 
 " Have the goodness to read the lines upon the margin," 
 said the professor, unfolding the letter, so that he could only 
 read those referred to. 
 
 The general read: " Professor Gedicke shall go himself to 
 Fraulein von Leuthen, and bring her to reason, reading the 
 document to her without witnesses. I wish this affair to 
 come to an end. Teach Mamselle mores! mores! mores! 
 
 "Frederick." 
 
288 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 "You have heard the royal command, ladies and gentle- 
 men; will you respect it?" said the professor, turning around 
 with an air of proud satisfaction. 
 
 "My dear son-in-law," said the general, solemnly, " it is a 
 royal command; give me your arm, as you know I am 
 feeble ; and you, my wife, take my other arm, and we will go 
 into the next room. Hush ! not a word — we have only to 
 obey, and not reason." 
 
 He seized his wife's hand hastily and firmly, that she 
 should not slip away, and winked to Ebenstreit, upon whose 
 support he crossed the room, drawing his wife with him, and 
 pushing open the door of the next with his foot. 
 
 Marie had stood during the whole transaction pale and 
 rigid in the centre of the room, looking haughty and defiant 
 as long as her parents and Herr Ebenstreit were present. 
 Now, as the door closed, life and action were visible in this 
 marble form ; she rushed to the old gentleman, scarce respir- 
 ing, and looking up at his dignified, sad face, asked : " Is 
 he living? Tell me only this, or is he ill?" 
 
 " Yes, he lives, he does not suffer from bodily ills, but the 
 sickness of the soul." 
 
 "And do not I also?" asked she, with quivering voice. 
 " Oh ! I know what he suffers, as we are wretched from the 
 same cause. But tell me, have you seen him?" 
 
 "Yes, Fraulein, I have." 
 
 " Where is he? Where did you see him?" 
 
 "In prison!" 
 
 Marie grew paler, and retreated, shuddering. The director 
 continued : " In a dark, damp prison at Spandau. The poor 
 fellow has been there for two months without air, light, or 
 occupation, and his only society is his own revengeful thoughts 
 and angry love-complaints." 
 
 Marie gave one hollow moan, covering her corpse-like face 
 with her hands. 
 
 " In this abode of torture, in this dwelling of the damned, 
 he must remain ten long years, if death does not release him?" 
 
THE SACRIFICE. 289 
 
 "What did you say?" she groaned. "Ten long years? 
 Have they condemned him?" 
 
 " Yes, he was guilty of a great crime — eloping with a 
 minor — who, with the king's consent, and that of her par- 
 ents, was betrothed to another. Read the sentence of the 
 court, which was forwarded to me as the head of the college 
 where Moritz was employed. See, here is the king's signa- 
 ture, which affirms the sentence, rendering it legal, and here 
 upon the margin are the lines your father read." 
 
 Trembling, Marie perused the contents. "Ten years in 
 the house of correction!" she murmured. " On my account 
 condemned to a living death ! No, no, it is impossible ! It 
 cannot be! Ten years of the best part of life! He con- 
 demned as a criminal ! I will go to the king. I will throw 
 myself at his feet, imploring for mercy. I am the guilty one 
 — I alone! They should judge me, and send me to the peni- 
 tentiary ! I will go to the king ! He must and will hear me!" 
 
 "He will not," sighed the director. "Listen to me, poor 
 child ! As I heard the sentence, I felt it my duty to summon 
 all my powers to rescue Moritz, for I love him as a son, and 
 had set my hopes upon him. " 
 
 " I thank you for this kind word," said Marie, seizing the 
 hand of the old man, and pressing it to her lips. 
 
 " I went immediately to Minister von Herzberg, and, upon 
 his advice, as he explained to me the king might lighten his 
 punishment, I betook myself to Frederick's winter-quarters 
 at Breslau. " 
 
 "You noble, generous man, I shall love you for it as long 
 as I live. Did you speak with the king?" 
 
 "Yes, and every thing that my heart or mind could inspire, 
 to excuse and justify my unhappy friend, I have said — but 
 all in vain. The king was much embittered, because he had 
 had the grace to grant him an audience, and explain the im- 
 possibility of the fulfilment of his petition. I did not cease 
 begging and imploring, until I softened the generous heart 
 of the king. " 
 
290 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 " Has he pardoned Moritz?" Marie asked, with brightening 
 hopes. 
 
 "Under certain conditions he will allow that he should 
 escape secretly from prison. They are formally written, and 
 if Moritz consents and binds himself by oath, he will not only 
 be freed, but provided with means to go to England, and 
 receive immediately an appointment as translator to the Prus- 
 sian embassy at London." 
 
 "What are the conditions, sir?" 
 
 " They are, first, that Moritz shall by oath renounce every 
 wish and thought of uniting himself with Fraulein von Leu- 
 then; secondly, that before he leaves the prison, he shall 
 write to the young lady, in which he shall solemnly release 
 her, and enjoin it upon her as a duty to accept the hand of 
 the man to whom her parents have betrothed her. These 
 were the conditions, and the king commanded me to go to 
 Spandau, and with sensible representations, to confer with 
 Moritz, and persuade him to accept them, and assure himself 
 of freedom, and an honorable future, free from care." 
 
 "You saw Moritz?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Did you communicate the conditions?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And he?" 
 
 "He refused, with rage and indignation!" 
 
 "He refused?" cried Marie, joyfully. "Oh, my dear Phil- 
 ip, I thank you. You love me truly and faithfully. Youi 
 glorious example shall inspire me to be as firm as you." 
 
 "Unhappy child, you know not what you are saying!" 
 cried the director, sadly. " If you really love him, you could 
 not follow his example. Eead what the king has written." 
 
 She took, in breathless silence, the document, and broke 
 the seal, unfolding the paper, but her hand shook it so 
 violently, that she could not distinguish the words. 
 
 She returned it to the director. "Read it, I cannot," she 
 said, and sank kneeling, looking up to the old man with un- 
 
THE SACRIFICE. 291 
 
 epeakable anguish, and listening to every word that fell from 
 his lips. It ran thus: 
 
 " His majesty announces to Mademoiselle Marie von Leu- 
 then that he is exceedingly indignant at her improper and 
 undutiful conduct, which does not at all become a maiden 
 loving of honor, and particularly a noble one. His majesty 
 ennobled her father for a brave deed, and he is angry that the 
 daughter should bring shame upon the title, in giving way, 
 not only to a passion which is beneath her, but is so little 
 mindful of morality as to flee from the paternal house, at 
 night, in an improper manner, with a man whose wife, ac- 
 cording to the command of the king and the will of her 
 father, she could never be. If his majesty did not respect 
 the former service of her father, and the new title, he would 
 send the daughter to the house of correction, and punish her 
 according to the law. But he will leave her to the reproaches 
 of conscience, and let the weight of the law fall upon her 
 partner in guilt, Philip Moritz. He is rightly sentenced to 
 ten years in the house of correction, and he will not be re- 
 leased one year or one day from the same, as he is guilty of a 
 great crime, and his sentence is just." 
 
 "Just!" shrieked Marie, in anguish — "ten years just?" 
 The director continued to read : " His majesty will propose 
 a last opportunity to the obstinate and inconsiderate young 
 lady to reinstate her own honor, and release at the same time 
 Conrector Moritz. His majesty has personal knowledge of 
 the latter, and respects his scholarly attainments and capa- 
 bility, and would bring an end to this affair for the general 
 good. If mademoiselle, as becomes an honorable young 
 woman, and an obedient daughter, follows the wishes of her 
 father, and without delay marries Herr Ebenstreit, and leads 
 a respectable life with him, the same hour of the ceremony 
 Conrector Moritz shall be released, and a fit position be created 
 for him. This is the final decision of the king. If the 
 daughter does not submit in perfect obedience, she will bur- 
 den her conscience with a great crime, and thank herself for 
 
292 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 Moritz's unfortunate fate. His majesty will be immediately 
 informed of her decision. If she listens to reason, to moral- 
 ity, and affection, she will submit to the proposition which 
 Director Gedicke is commissioned to make known to her, and 
 announce to her parents in his presence that she will 
 obediently follow their commands, Conrector Moritz will be 
 at once set at liberty ; otherwise he will be sent to Branden- 
 burg to the house of correction. This is the unalterable will 
 of the king. Signed, in the name of the king, 
 
 " Frederick. " 
 
 "Now decide, my child," continued the director, after a 
 solemn pause. " I know nothing to add to this royal writing. 
 If it has not itself spoken to your heart, your reason and your 
 honor, words are useless." 
 
 "0 God, it is cruel — it is terrible!" cried Marie. "Shall 
 I break my oath of constancy, becoming faithless, and suffer 
 him to curse me, for he will never pardon me, but despise me !" 
 
 She sprang up like a tigress, with her eys flashing. " Oh," 
 cried she, " he may even believe that I have been enticed by 
 riches, by a brilliant future! No — no! I cannot consent! 
 May God have mercy on me if the king will not ! I will not 
 break my oath ! No one but Moritz shall ever be my husband !" 
 
 "Unhappy girl," cried the old man, sadly, " I will give you 
 one last inducement. I know not whether you have any 
 knowledge of Moritz's past life, so tried and painful, which 
 has made him easily excited and eccentric. A danger men- 
 aces him worse than imprisonment or death. His unaccus- 
 tomed life, and the solitude of his dark, damp prison, is 
 causing a fearful excitement in him. He is habituated to 
 intellectual occupation. When he is obliged to put on the 
 prisoner's jacket in the house of correction and spin wool, 
 it will not kill him — it will make him mad!" 
 
 A piercing cry was Marie's answer. " That is not true — it 
 is impossible. He crazy ! — you only say that to compel me to 
 do what you will. His bright mind could not be obscured 
 through the severest proofs." 
 
THE SACRIFICE. 293 
 
 "You do not believe me? You think that an old man, 
 with gray hair, and one foot in the grave, and who loves 
 Moritz, could tell you a shameful untruth ! I swear to you 
 by the heads of my children, by all that is holy, that Moritz 
 already suffers from an excitement of the brain ; and if ho 
 does not soon have liberty and mental occupation, it is almost 
 certain that he will become insane." 
 
 Almost convulsed with anguish, Marie seized the old man's 
 hand with fierce passion. "He shall not be crazed," she 
 shrieked. " He shall not suffer — he shall not be imprisoned 
 and buried in the house of correction on my account. I will 
 rescue him — I and my love ! I am prepared to do what the 
 king commands ! I will — marry the man — which — my parents 
 have chosen. But — tell me, will he then be free?" 
 
 "To-day even — in three hours, my poor child!" 
 
 "Free! And I shall have saved him! Tell me what I 
 have to do. What is the king's will?" 
 
 "First sign this document," said the director, as he drew 
 forth a second paper. " It runs thus: 'I, Marie von Leuthen, 
 declare that of my own free will and consent I will renounce 
 every other engagement, and will marry Herr Ebenstreit von 
 Leuthen, and be a faithful wife to him. I witness with my 
 signature the same.' " 
 
 " Give it to me quickly," she gasped. " I will sign it! He 
 must be free! He shall not go mad!" 
 
 She rapidly signed the paper. " Here is my sentence Oil 
 death ! But he will live ! Take it !" 
 
 " My child," cried the old man, deeply agitated, " God will 
 be mindful of this sacrifice, and in the hour of death it will 
 beam brightly upon you. You have by this act rescued a 
 noble and excellent being, and when he wins fame from 
 science and art he will owe to you alone the gratitude." 
 
 "He shall not thank me!" she whispered. "He shall live 
 and— if he can be happy ! — this is all that I ask for ! What 
 is there further to be done?" 
 
 " To announce to your parents in my presence that you will 
 
294 OLD FEITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 marry Herr Ebenstreit, and let the ceremony take place as 
 soon as possible. " 
 
 " You swear that he shall then be released? You are an old 
 man — reflect well ; you swear to me that as soon as the mar- 
 riage takes place, Philip Moritz will be free this very day and 
 that he will be reinstated in an honorable, active occupation?" 
 
 " 1 swear it to you upon my word of honor, by my hope of 
 reward from above." 
 
 " I believe you. Call my parents. But first — you are a 
 father, and love your children well. I have never had a 
 father who loved me, or ever laid his hand upon my head to 
 bless me. You say that you love Moritz as a son ! Oh, love 
 me for a moment as your daughter, and bless me!" 
 
 The old man folded her in his arms, tears streaming down 
 his cheeks. " God bless you, my daughter, as I bless you!" 
 
 "I dare not tarry," she shuddered. "Let my parents 
 enter." 
 
 Slowly the venerable man traversed the room. Marie 
 pressed her hands to her heart, looking to heaven. As the 
 door opened, and the general entered, leaning upon Eben- 
 streit's arm, followed by his wife, Marie approached them 
 with a haughty, determined manner, who regarded her with 
 astonishment. 
 
 " Father," she said, slowly and calmly, " I am ready to fol- 
 low your wishes. Send, for the clergyman: I consent to 
 marry this man to-day, upon one condition." 
 
 " Make it known, my dear Marie. Name your condition. 
 I will joyfully fulfil it," said Ebenstreit. 
 
 " I demand that we leave to-day for the East, to go to 
 Egypt — Palestine — and remain away from this place for 
 years. Are you agreed to it?" 
 
 " To all that which my dear Marie wishes." 
 
 " You can now weave the bridal- wreath in my hair, mother. 
 I consent to the marriage." 
 
 Three hours later the preparations were completed. Every 
 thing had awaited this for three months. 
 
THE SACRIFICE. 295 
 
 In the sitting-room, the decorators had quickly built a 
 marriage-altar, and ornamented the walls with garlands of 
 flowers, with festoons of gauze and silk, with flags and stand- 
 ards. The mother wore the costly silk which her rich son- 
 in-law had honored her with for the occasion, and also 
 adorned herself with the gold ornaments which were equally 
 his gift. The father wore his gold-embroidered uniform, and 
 imagined himself a stately figure, as the gout left him the use 
 of his limbs this day. 
 
 The invited witnesses began to assemble. Just then Eben- 
 streit von Leuthen drove up in the handsome travelling- 
 carriage, which was a wedding-gift to his wife, and excited 
 the admiration of the numerous street public. 
 
 Old Trude, in her simple dark Sunday dress, had awaited 
 the appearance of the bridegroom, and went to announce his 
 arrival to the bride. 
 
 Marie was in her little garret-room, so unlike in its pres- 
 ent appearance to its former simplicity and comfort — as unlike 
 as the occupant to the rosy, smiling young girl, who, yonder 
 by the little brown table in the window-niche, taught her 
 pupils, or with busy, skilful hands made the loveliest flowers, 
 the income of which she gave to her parents, joyfully and 
 eagerly, although she never received thanks or recognition 
 for the same. Now the same little table was covered with 
 morocco cases, whose half-open covers revealed brilliant or- 
 naments, laces, and sweet perfumes; superb silk dresses, 
 cloaks, and shawls, ornamented with lace, lay about upon the 
 bed and chairs. 
 
 Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthen had truly given his bride a 
 princely dowry, and her mother had spread the things around 
 her room. 
 
 Since Marie gave her consent to the marriage, she had fol- 
 lowed out their wishes without opposition. She wore a white 
 satin dress, covered with gold lace, her arms, neck, and ears, 
 adorned with diamonds. The coiffeur had powdered and ar- 
 ranged her hair, without h,er ever casting a glance into the 
 
296 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 Psyche-mirror which her betrothed had had the gallantry to 
 send to her room. She let him arrange the costly bridal veil; 
 but when he would place the crown of myrtle, she waved him 
 back. 
 
 "Your work is finished," she said; "my mother will place 
 that, I thank you." 
 
 As Trude entered, Marie was standing in the centre of the 
 room, regarding it with sinister, angry looks. 
 
 " There you are, Trude," she said, " I am glad to see you a 
 moment alone, for I have something to tell you. I have 
 spoken with my future husband, demanding that you live 
 with me as long as I live. Immediately after the ceremony 
 you will go to my future home and remain there as house- 
 keeper during my absence." 
 
 Sadly the old woman shook her head. " No, that is too 
 important a place for me. I will not lead a lazy life, and 
 play the fine woman. I was made to work with my hands." 
 
 "Do what you will in the house," answered Marie. " Only 
 promise me that you will not leave me, and when I return 
 that I shall find you there. If you leave me, I will never 
 comeback. Promise me!" 
 
 "Then I will promise you, my poor child," sighed Trude. 
 
 Marie laughed scornfully. " You call me poor — do you not 
 see I am rich? I carry a fortune about my neck. Go, do 
 not bewail me — I am rich!" 
 
 "Marie, do not laugh so, it makes me feel badly," whis- 
 pered the old woman. " I came to tell you the bridegroom 
 and the clergyman are there." 
 
 " The time has arrived for the marriage of the rich and 
 happy bride. Go, Trude, beg my mother to come up and 
 adorn me with the myrtle- wreath. " 
 
 "Dear Marie, can I not do it?" asked Trude, with quiver- 
 ing voice. 
 
 " No, not you ; touch not the fatal wreath ! You have no 
 part in that! Call my mother — it is time!" 
 
THE SACRIFICE. 297 
 
 Trude turned sadly toward the door, Marie glancing after 
 her, and calling her back with gentle tone. 
 
 "Trude, my dear, faithful mother, kiss me once more." 
 She threw her arms around Marie's neck and imprinted a lov- 
 ing kiss upon her forehead, weeping. " Now go, Trude — we 
 must not give way ; you know me ; you well understand my 
 feelings, and see into my heart." 
 
 The old woman went out, drying her eyes. Marie uttered 
 her last farewell. " With you the past goes forth, with you 
 my youth and hope ! When the door again opens, my future 
 enters a strange, fearful life. Woe to those who have pre- 
 pared it for me — woe to those who have so cruelly treated me ! 
 They will yet see what they have done. The good angel is 
 extinct within me. Wicked demons will now assume their 
 power over me. I will have no pity — I will revenge myself ; 
 that I swear to Moritz!" 
 
 Her mother rustled in, clothed in her splendid wedding- 
 garments. "Did you send for me, dear Marie?" she whis- 
 pered. 
 
 " Yes, mother — I beg you to put on my myrtle- wreath. " 
 
 "How! have you no endearment for me?" she asked, 
 smilingly. "Why do you say 'you' instead of 'thou?' " 
 
 " It is better so, mother," she coldly answered. " Will you 
 adorn me with the bridal- wreath?" 
 
 " Willingly, my dear child ; it is very beautiful and be- 
 coming." 
 
 " Do you realize, mother, what you are doing? You place 
 the wreath to consecrate me to an inconsolably unhappy life 
 with the man that I hate and despise!" 
 
 " My dear child, I know that you think so to-day ; but you 
 will soon change, and find that wealth is a supportable mis- 
 fortune." 
 
 " Mother, one day you will recall these words. Crown me 
 for the hated bridal. The sacrifice is prepared 1" 
 
 ?o 
 
BOOK IT. 
 
 THE VISIBLES AND THE INVISIBLES. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 OLD FKITZ. 
 
 The war terminated, the hostile armies returned to their 
 different German countries. Frederick the Great had gained 
 his point, forcing Austria to renounce the possession of 
 Bavaria. The Prince of Zweibrucken had been solemnly rec- 
 ognized by him as the rightful heir to the electorate, and the 
 lawful ruler and possessor of Bavaria. The Emperor Joseph 
 had submitted with profound regret and bitter animosity to 
 the will of his mother, the reigning empress, and consented 
 to the peace negotiations of Baron von Thugut. Having 
 signed the document of the same, in his quality of co-regent, 
 he angrily threw aside the pen, casting a furious glance at the 
 hard, impenetrable face of Thugut, saying: "Tell her 
 majesty that I have accomplished my last act as co-regent, 
 and I now abdicate. From henceforth I will still be her 
 obedient son, but no submissive joint ruler, to only follow 
 devotedly her imperial will. Therefore I resign, and never 
 will trouble myself in future about the acts of the govern- 
 ment." The emperor kept his word. He retired, piqued, 
 into solitude, wounded in the depths of his soul, and after- 
 ward travelled, leaving the government entirely to the empress 
 and her pious confessors. 
 
 Bavaria was rescued ! It owed its existence to the watchful- 
 ness, sagacity, and disinterested aid of Prussia's great king. 
 
OLD FRITZ. 299 
 
 The Elector Maximilian vowed in his delight that he, as well 
 as his successors and heirs, would never forget that Bavaria 
 must ascribe its continuance to Prussia alone, and therefore 
 the gratitude of the princes of this electorate could not and 
 never would be extinguished toward the royal house of Prus- 
 sia. Frederick received these overflowing acknowledgments 
 with the calmness of a philosopher and the smile of a skeptic. 
 He understood mankind sufficiently to know what to expect 
 from their oaths ; to know that in the course of time there is 
 nothing more oppressive and intolerable than gratitude, 
 that it soon becomes a burden which they would gladly throw 
 off their bent shoulders at any price, and become the enemy 
 •f him to whom they had sworn eternal thankfulness. Frede- 
 rick regarded these oaths of Bavaria not as a security for the 
 future, but as a payment on account of the past. 
 
 " I did not go forth to render the Bavarian princes indebted 
 to me," said he, to his only confidante, Count Herzberg, as 
 he brought to him, at Sans-Souci, the renewed expression of 
 thanks of the prince elector. " I would only protect Germany 
 against Austria's grasp, and preserve the equilibrium of the 
 German empire. Believe me, the house of Hapsburg is a 
 dangerous enemy for the little German principalities, and if 
 my successor does not bear it in mind, and guard himself 
 against their flatteries and cat's-paws, Austria will fleece him 
 as the cat the mouse who is enticed by the odor of the bacon. 
 Prussia shall be neither a mouse in the German empire, nor 
 serve as a roast for Austria. But she shall be a well-trained 
 shepherd's dog for the dear, patient herd, and take care that 
 none go astray and are lost." 
 
 M Your majesty has drawn an unfortunate character for the 
 future of our country," sighed Herzberg, thoughtfully, "and 
 as I must grant that it is sketched with severe but correct 
 outlines, so it follows that poor Germany has many combats 
 and hardships in store." 
 
 " What do you mean?" asked the king. " What character- 
 istic did I name?" 
 
300 OLD FEITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 " Your majesty pointed out Austria as the cat watching for 
 prey in Germany. Prussia, on the contrary, as the shep- 
 herd's dog, which should watch the native herd, and 
 occasionally bite those who wander from the flock. The com- 
 parison is apt, and clearly exposes the natural hostility of 
 the two nations. Nature has placed the cat and the dog in 
 eternal enmity, and there is no compromise to be thought of, 
 to say nothing of friendship. There may, now and then, be 
 a truce ; the cat may draw in her claws, and the dog may 
 cease to howl and growl, but the combat will renew itself, and 
 never end, but in the death of one party, and the victorious 
 triumph of the other." 
 
 "You are right," said the king, nodding slightly. "From 
 this natural hostility will proceed many combats and storms 
 for our land, and much blood will be shed on its account. 
 Let us look to the future, and try to ward off the coming evil, 
 in erecting high barriers against the cat-like springs of the 
 enemy. I will think out a security for Germany. But first, 
 mon cher ami, we have to care for our own country and peo- 
 ple. The war has greatly injured my poor subjects. Indus- 
 try is prostrated and prosperity disturbed. We must seek 
 new sources of acquisition, and sustain those which are ex- 
 hausted. For this, we must think ot j.resh taxes, and other 
 sources of income." 
 
 " Sire," said Herzberg, shrugging his shoulders, "the taxes 
 are already so heavy that it will be difficult to increase them." 
 
 " You are greatly mistaken," cried the king, with increased 
 animation. " I will impose a tax upon those things which 
 are now exempt, and establish a capable administration for 
 the purpose. Bread, flour, meat, and beer, the sustenance of 
 the poor, shall remain as they are, for I will not that they 
 shall pay more. But tobacco, coffee, and tea, are superfluous 
 things, which the prosperous and rich consume. Whoever 
 will smoke, and drink tea or coffee, can and shall pay for 
 being a gourmand!" 
 
 " I beg pardon, but it is just these taxes which will create 
 
OLD FRITZ. 301 
 
 the greatest discontent," answered Herzberg. " Yonr majesty 
 will remember that the duty on coffee was complained of and 
 criticised by every one, and the poor people grumbled more 
 than all. In spite of the resistance of government, coffee has 
 become, more and more, a means of nourishment and refresh- 
 ment for the lower class." 
 
 "I will teach them to renounce it," cried the king, strik- 
 ing the table violently with his staff " I will not suffer so 
 much money to go out of the country for this abominable 
 beverage ! My people shall re-learn to drink their beer, in- 
 stead of this infamous stuff, as I had to do when a young 
 man. What was good enough for the crown prince of Prus- 
 sia, will to-day suffice for his subjects. I tell you, Herzberg, 
 I will teach them to drink their beer, or pay dearly for this 
 bad, foreign stuff. Then we will see which will conquer, 
 Prussian beer or foreign coffee." 
 
 " It is possible that the former will be victorious on account 
 of their poverty and the high duties ; but in any case the peo- 
 ple will be discontented, and grumble against your majesty." 
 
 "Do you suppose that I care for that?" asked the king, 
 with a quick, fiery glance at the calm, earnest face of his 
 confidant. " Do you think that I care for the applause of the 
 people, or trouble myself about their complaints? I regard 
 their shouting or their grumbling about as much as the hum- 
 ming or buzzing of a fly upon the wall. If it dares to light 
 upon my nose, I brush it off ; and if I can, I catch it. Beyond 
 that, it is its nature to hum and buzz. Herzberg, you under- 
 stand that if a ruler should listen to the praises or discontent 
 of his subjects, he would soon be a lost man, and would not 
 know his own mind. The people are changeable as the 
 weather ; to-morrow they crush under their feet what to-day 
 they bore aloft, and praise one day what they stone the next. 
 Do not talk to me about the people ! I know this childish, 
 foolish mass, and he is lost who counts upon their favor. It 
 is all the same to me whether they like or hate me. I shall 
 always do my duty to my subjects according to the best of my 
 
302 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 knowledge and ability, as it becomes an honorable and faith- 
 ful officer. As the chief and most responsible servant of my 
 kingdom, I should be mindful to increase her income and 
 diminish her expenses — to lay taxes upon the rich, and lighten 
 them for the poor. This is my task, and I will fulfil it so 
 long as I live!" 
 
 "Oh," cried Herzberg, with enthusiasm, "would that the 
 entire nation might hear these words, and engrave them upon 
 their hearts!" 
 
 " Why that, mon cher ? " asked Frederick, shrugging his 
 shoulders. " I do not ask to be deified ; my subjects are per- 
 fectly welcome to discuss my acts, sc long as they pay me 
 punctually, and order and quiet are respected and preserved." 
 
 " All that is done," said Herzberg, joyfully. " The machine 
 of state is so well arranged, that she has fulfilled her duty 
 during the war, and will soon reestablish prosperity." 
 
 "Particularly," cried the king, "if we rightly understand 
 the art of agriculture. In the end every thing depends upon 
 him who best cultivates his field. This is the highest art, for 
 without it there would be no merchants, courtiers, kings, 
 poets, or philosophers. The productions of the earth are the 
 truest riches. He who improves his ground, brings waste 
 land under the plough, drains the swamps, makes the most 
 glorious conquests over barbarism." 
 
 "And those are also conquerors, sire," said Herzberg, smil- 
 ing, " who drain the mental swamps, and improve the waste 
 mental ground. Such are those who increase the schools and 
 instruct the people. I have caused the school authorities to 
 report to me, according to your majesty's command. A 
 happy progress has been noticed everywhere. Cultivation and 
 education are advancing; and since our teachers have adopted 
 the principles of Eousseau, a more humane spirit is percep- 
 tible throughout our schools." 
 
 " What principle do we owe to Jean Jacques?" asked the 
 king. 
 
 " Sire, the principle that man is good by nature!" 
 
OLD FRITZ. 303 
 
 "Ah, mon cher, who says that knows but little of the 
 abominable race to which we belong!" * 
 
 " Do you not believe in this doctrine?" asked Herzberg. 
 
 The king raised his large blue eyes musingly to the busts 
 placed upon the bookcases, and around the walls. They lin- 
 gered long upon those of Homer, Plato, and D'Alembert; 
 then turned to that of Voltaire, with its satyr-like face. 
 "No, I do not believe it," he sadly responded. " Mankind is 
 an ignoble race; still one must love them, for among the 
 wicked are always some worthy ones, whose light beams so 
 brightly clear, that they change night into day. During my 
 life I have learned to know many base, miserable creatures, 
 but I have become reconciled to them, as I have also found 
 some who were virtuous and excellent — some who were noble 
 and beautiful, as the grains of wheat among the chaff. You 
 belong to the latter, my Herzberg; and as in heaven many 
 unjust will be forgiven for one just person, so will I upon 
 earth forgive on your account the Trencks, Schaffgotschs, 
 Gomes, Voltaires, Wallraves, Glasows, Dahsens, and all the 
 traitors, poisoners, and perfidious ones, as they may be called. 
 Remain by my side and sustain me, to prevent many a wicked 
 thing, and bring to pass much that is good. I shall always 
 be grateful to you in my heart for it ; that you can depend 
 upon, even if my weather-beaten face looks ill-humored, and 
 my voice is peevish. Remember that I am a fretful old man, 
 who is daily wasting away, approaching that bourne from 
 which no traveller has ever returned." 
 
 " God grant that your majesty may be far removed from 
 this bourne!" said Herzberg, with emotion. "And He may 
 grant it on account of your subjects, who are so much in need 
 of your care and government." 
 
 "There is no one upon earth who could not be replaced, " 
 said the king, shaking his head. "When I am gone, they 
 will shout to my successor. I trust my subjects will exchange 
 a good ruler for their fretful old king. I have been very well 
 
 * The king's words.— See " Prussia." vol. iv., p. 221. 
 
304 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 satisfied with him during the campaign, and he has shown 
 ability in the diplomatic mission to St. Petersburg. He has 
 proved himself a soldier and a diplomat, and I hope he will 
 become a great king. Herzberg, why do you not answer me, 
 but cast down your eyes? What does your silence mean?" 
 
 " Nothing at all — truly nothing ! The crown prince has a 
 noble, generous heart, a good understanding; only — " 
 
 " Why hesitate, Herzberg? Go on — what is your 'only?' " 
 
 " I would only say that the crown prince must beware and 
 not be governed by others." 
 
 "Oh, you mean that he will be ruled by mistresses and 
 favorites?" 
 
 " I do fear it, your majesty ! You well know that the 
 crown princes are generally the antipodes of those ascendant 
 to the throne. If the ruler has only an enlightened mind, 
 and is free from prejudices, so — " 
 
 "Is his crown prince an obscurer," added quickly the king, 
 " having the more prejudices, and is capable of being ruled 
 by mystics and exorcists. Is not that your meaning?" 
 
 Count Herzberg nodded. The king continued with ani- 
 mation: "Some one has told me of a new friend who 
 returned from the war with the prince, and who belongs to 
 the Eosicrucians and exhorters, and hopes to find many ad- 
 herents here for such deceptions. Is it true?" 
 
 "Yes, sire. It is Colonel Bischofswerder, a Rosicrucian 
 and necromancer and of course of very pleasant address. He 
 has indeed already gained much power over the impressible 
 mind of Frederick William, and his importance is greatly on 
 the increase." 
 
 "What does the crown prince's mistress say to it? Is she 
 not jealous?" 
 
 " Of which one does your majesty speak?" 
 
 The king started, and his eyes flashed. "What!" he cried 
 with vehemence, "is there a question of several? Has the 
 crown prince others be^'des Wilhelmine Enke, whom I have 
 tolerated?" 
 
OLD FRITZ. 305 
 
 " Sire, unfortunately, the prince has not a very faithful 
 heart. Besides, it is Bischofswerder's plan, as I suppose, to 
 separate him from Wilhelmine, who will not subordinate her- 
 self to him, and who even dares to mock the necromancers 
 and visionaries, and oppose them to the crown prince." 
 
 "Does Enke do that?" asked the king. 
 
 H Yes, sire," answered Herzberg, as the king rose and slowly 
 paced the room. " And one must acknowledge that in that 
 she does well and nobly. Otherwise one cannot reproach her. 
 She leads a quiet, retired life, very seldom leaving her beau- 
 tiful villa at Charlottenburg, but devotes herself to the 
 education of her children. She is surrounded with highly- 
 educated men, savants, poets, and artists, who indeed all 
 belong to the enlightened, the so-called Illuminati, and which 
 are a thorn in the eye to Colonel Bischofswerder. Your 
 majesty will perceive that I have some good informants in 
 this circle, and the latest news they bring me is that the bad 
 influence is upon the increase. The Eosi crucians reproach 
 the prince for his immoral connection with Wilhelmine 
 Enke, as they would replace her by one who gives herself up 
 to them." 
 
 " That shall not take place," cried the king. " No, we will 
 not suffer that ; and particularly when we are forced to rec- 
 ognize such abominable connections, we should endeavor to 
 choose the most desirable. I cannot permit that this person, 
 who has at least heart and understanding, should be pushed 
 aside by Bischofswerder. My nephew shall retain her, and 
 she shall drive away the Eosicrucians with all their deviltries. 
 Herzberg, go and tell the crown prince, from me, that I 
 order — " 
 
 His majesty suddenly stopped, and looked at Herzberg with 
 surprise, who was smiling. 
 
 " Why do you laugh, Herzberg?" 
 
 " I was not laughing, sire. If my lip quivered against my 
 will, it was because I stupidly and foolishly dared to finish the 
 broken sentence." 
 
306 OLD FEITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 "Well, how did you manage to conclude it?" 
 
 "Sire, your majesty said, 'Tell the crown prince that I 
 order him' — and there you ceased. I added 'order him to 
 love Wilhelmine Enke, and be faithful to her. ' I beg par- 
 don for my mistake. I should have known that your majesty 
 cpuld never command the execution of that which is not to 
 be forced ; that my great king recognizes, as well as I, that 
 love is not compulsory, or fidelity either. Pardon me for my 
 impertinence, and tell me the order which I shall take to the 
 crown prince from my beloved king and master." 
 
 The king stepped close up to the minister, and gazed with 
 a half -sad, half -tender expression in the noble and gentle face 
 of Herzberg, and in the sensible brown eyes, which sank not 
 beneath the fiery glance of Frederick. Then, slowly raising 
 his hand from the staff, he menaced him with his long, bony 
 forefinger. 
 
 "Herzberg, you are a rogue, and will teach me morals. 
 Indeed, you are right — love is not compulsory, but one can 
 sometimes aid it. Say nothing to the prince. The interior 
 of his house must, indeed, be left to himself, but we will keep 
 our eyes open and be watchful. Do so also, Herzberg, and if 
 you discover any thing, tell me; and if Wilhelmine Enke 
 needs assistance against the infamous Eosicrucians, and with 
 her aid this mystic rabble can be suppressed, inform me, and 
 I am ready to send her succor. Ah ! Herzberg, is it not a 
 melancholy fact that one must fight his way through so much 
 wickedness to obtain so little that is good ? My whole life has 
 passed in toil and trouble ; I have grown old before my time, 
 and would rest from my labors, and harvest in the last few 
 years, what I have sown in a lifetime. Is it not sad that I 
 hope for no fruit, and that the seed that I have scattered will 
 be trodden under foot by my successor? I must gaze at the 
 future without joy, without consolation !" 
 
 The king turned to the window, perhaps to hide the tears 
 which stood in his eyes. Herzberg did not presume to inter- 
 rupt the sad silence, but gazed with an expression of the 
 
OLD FRITZ. 307 
 
 deepest sympathy at the little bent form, in the threadbare 
 coat. Grief filled his heart at the thought that this head was 
 not only bowed down by the weight of years and well-deserved 
 laurels, but also from its many cares and griefs, and hopeless 
 peering into the future. 
 
 The king turned again, and his eyes were bright and un- 
 dimmed. "We must never lose courage," said he, "and we 
 must have a reserve corps in life as well as upon the field of 
 battle. For the world resembles the latter, and the former is 
 a continual war, in which we must not be discouraged nor 
 cast down, if there is not hope in our souls. I will cling to 
 hope. As you have said, and I have also found it true, that 
 the crown prince is a good and brave man, and possesses a 
 sound, keen understanding, we may succeed in bringing him 
 back from the erroneous ways in which his youth, levity, and 
 the counsels of wicked friends have led him. We will try 
 with kindness and friendliness, as I believe these have more 
 effect upon him. Let us not even scorn to aid Wilhelmine 
 Enke, in so far as is compatible with honor. If a mistress is 
 necessary to the happiness of the prince, this one seems the 
 most worthy of all to encourage. Beyond the clouds the stars 
 are still shining, and it appears to me as if I see in per- 
 spective, in the heaven of Prussia's future, a star which 
 promises a bright light with years. Do you not think with 
 me, the little Prince Frederick William is a rising star?" 
 
 "Yes, your majesty," answered Herzberg, joyfully. "He 
 is a splendid little boy, of simple and innocent heart, and 
 bright, vigorous mind, modest and unpretending." 
 
 " You see," cried the king, evidently cheered, " there is om* 
 star, and we will watch over it, that it is not obscured. I 
 must see the prince oftener. He shall visit me every month 
 and his governors and teachers shall report to me every quar- 
 ter. We will watch over his education, and train him to be 
 a good king for the future, and guard ourselves against being 
 pusillanimous, foolish, and fretful, and not be discouraged in 
 life. I have entered my last lustrum, or five years. Hush ! 
 
308 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 do not dispute it, but believe me! My physique is worn out, 
 and the mental grows dull, and although I live and move 
 about, I am half in the grave. There are two coffins in this 
 room, which contain the greater part of my past. Look 
 around, do you not see them?" 
 
 "No," said Herzberg, as he glanced at the different articles 
 of furniture, " I see none." 
 
 " Look upon the table by the window — what do you there 
 see?" 
 
 " Your majesty, there is an instrument-case and a sword- 
 sheath." 
 
 " They are the ones I refer to. In the case lies my flute, 
 that is to say, my youth, love, poesy, and art, are encoffined 
 there. In the sheath is my sword, which is my manhood, 
 energy, laurels, and fame. I will never play the flute or draw 
 the sword again. All that is past!" 
 
 " But there still remains for the great king a noble work to 
 perfect," cried Herzberg. "Youth has flown, and the war- 
 songs are hushed. The poet and hero will change to the 
 lawgiver. Sire, you have made Prussia great and powerful 
 externally; there remains a greater work, to make her the 
 same within. You have added new provinces, give them now 
 a new code of laws. You will no longer unsheath the sword 
 of the hero; then raise that of justice high above your 
 subjects!" 
 
 "I will," cried the king, with beaming eyes. "You have 
 rightly seized and comprehended what alone seems to me 
 worthy of will and execution. There shall be but one law for 
 the high and the low, the poor and the rich. The distin- 
 guished Chancellor Oarmer shall immediately go to work 
 upon it, and you shall aid him. The necessity of such a re- 
 form we have lately felt in the Arnold process, where the 
 judge decided in favor of the rich, and wronged the poor 
 man. How could the judge sustain Count Schmettau against 
 the miller Arnold, who had been deprived of the water for his 
 mill, when it was so evident that it was unjust?" 
 
OLD FRITZ. 309 
 
 "I beg pardon, majesty, but I believe the judge obeyed the 
 very letter of the law, and — " 
 
 " Then this law must be annulled,*' interrupted the king. 
 " This is why I revoked the judge's sentence, and sent the 
 obstinate fellows to the fortress, sustaining the miller in his 
 right, deposing the arrogant Chancellor Fiirst. I had long 
 resolved upon it, for I knew that he was a haughty fellow, 
 who let the poor crowd his anteroom, and listened to the flat- 
 tery of the high-born rabble who courted him. I only waited 
 an occasion to bow his haughty head. This offered, and I 
 availed myself of it, voilh tout. It is to be hoped that it will 
 be a good example for all courts of justice. They will re- 
 member that the least peasant and beggar is a human being 
 as much as the king, and that justice should be accorded to 
 him. If they do not, they will have to deal with me. If a 
 college of justice practises injustice, it is more dangerous than 
 a band of robbers ; for one can protect himself from the lat- 
 ter, but the former are rascals wearing the mantle of justice, 
 to exercise their own evil passions, from whom no man can 
 protect himself, and they are the greatest scoundrels in the 
 world, and deserve a double punishment. I therefore deposed 
 the unjust judge, and sent him to the fortress at Spandau, 
 that all might take warning by his fate." * 
 
 "This Arnold trial belongs to history," said Herzberg. 
 " The lawyers will refer to it after the lapse of centuries, and 
 the poor and the oppressed will recall and bless the thought- 
 fulness of the great king, who would open just as wide a gate 
 for them to enter the heaven of justice as to the rich and 
 noble. This new code of laws will beam above the crown of 
 gold and of laurels, with the splendor of the civil crown, 
 whose brilliants are the tears of gratitude of your people." 
 
 "May it be so," said Frederick, with earnestness. "Now 
 tell me, do you know what day of the month it is?" 
 
 " Sire, it is the 30th of May." 
 
 " Yes, you will remember it is the anniversary of Voltaire's 
 
 * The king's o\m words.— See "Prussia, Frederick the Great, " vol. iv. 
 
310 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 death, and after I have quarrelled for two years with the 
 priests and so-called holy fathers at Rome, I have gained my 
 point, and the honor shall be shown him here in Berlin which 
 the priests and friars have refused to the immortal poet in his 
 own country. To-day, exactly at the hour which Voltaire 
 died, the mass for the dead will be read in the Catholic 
 church, to free his immortal soul from purgatory. I have, 
 indeed, no idea of an immortal soul. If there are any, and if 
 it has to endure the threefold heat of which Father Tobias, 
 of Silesia, related to me, I do not believe that the priests, for 
 a few thalers, can loose the unhappy spirit from the bake- 
 oven. But as they refuse burial to the spirit of Voltaire, in 
 order to insult him after death, so must I avail myself of this 
 occasion to offer a last homage to the great poet, which will 
 take place at four o'clock. Go to the mass, Herzberg, and 
 tell me to-morrow how it went off — whether the priests make 
 right pious faces and burn much incense. Adieu. Au 
 revoir, demain." 
 
 As the king dismissed, with a friendly wave of the hand, 
 his confidential minister, he passed into his cabinet, remain- 
 ing an hour with his counsellors. At dinner appeared some 
 of the generals, weather-worn and bent, with wrinkled faces 
 and dull eyes. Souvenirs of the glorious years of fame and 
 victory. The king nodded kindly to them, but during the 
 entire meal, he only let some indifferent questions fall from 
 his lips, which were devotedly and tediously answered by some 
 one of the old generals. As their dry, peevish voices re- 
 sounded through the high, vaulted room, it seemed to 
 reawaken in Frederick's heart the souvenirs of memory and 
 become the echo of vanished days. He gazed up at the little 
 Cupids, in the varied play of bright colors, looking down 
 from the clouds, and the goddesses trumpeting through their 
 long tubes the fame of the immortal, the same as formerly, 
 when they smiled from the clouds upon the beaming face of 
 the young king, dining in the distinguished circle of his 
 friends Voltaire, D'Argens, Algarotti, La Melbrie, and Keith. 
 
OLD FRITZ. 311 
 
 The Cupids were fresh as ever, and the goddesses had not 
 removed the trumpets from their lips. But where were the 
 friends of the merry round-table? Eeturned to dust. The 
 jests and poesy have died away — all have sunken to decay and 
 darkness. The king silently raised his glass of Tokay, gazing 
 up to the clouds and Cupids, draining it slowly in sacrifice 
 for the dead. Then with a vehement, contemptuous move- 
 ment, he threw the glass over his shoulder, shivering it into 
 a thousand pieces. The old generals, after dessert, had gently 
 sunk into their afternoon nap, and now started, frightened, 
 looking wildly around, as if they expected the enemy were 
 approaching. Alkmene crept from under the king's chair 
 snuffing with her long, delicate nose, the glistening pieces of 
 glass, and the footman bent himself to carefully pick them up. 
 
 The king rose silently, saluting the old generals, pointing with 
 his staff to the large folding-doors which led to the garden. 
 
 The footmen hastened forward to open them, and stand in 
 stiff, military order upon each side. Frederick walked slowly 
 out, mounting the two steps which led to the upper terrace, 
 signing to the attendants to close the doors. 
 
 He was alone. Only "Windspiel was there to spring about 
 joyfully, barking, and turning to meet him, who wandered 
 on the border of the terrace, where he had formerly walked 
 with his friends. Now he stopped to gaze up the broad, de- 
 serted steps which led from terrace to terrace, as if he could 
 repeople them with the well-known forms, and could see them 
 approach and greet him with the look of endless love and con- 
 stancy. Then he raised his eyes to heaven, as if to seek there 
 those he in vain sought upon earth. 
 
 " Do you not see me, my friends?" he asked, in a gentle 
 but sad voice. " Do you not look down wonderingly where 
 once you saw a cheerful, smiling king, upon the now bent, 
 shrunken old man, cold and phlegmatic, who seldom speaks, 
 and then causes every one to yawn? Oh, where have you fled, 
 beautiful spring-time of life — wherein once we used to enliven 
 our conversations with the wit of the Athenians, and the jest 
 
312 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 fluttered upon our lips as we glided through life in the bold 
 enjoyment of youth? Banished is the dance, and I creep 
 about, leaning upon my staff, enfeebled in body, and with 
 saddened heart ! Oh, awful change, unhappy old age ! What 
 does it aid me that I am a king? I have won many a battle, 
 but now I am vanquished by age and death and am alone!" * 
 
 A slight breeze rustled through the trees, fanning, caress- 
 ingly, the cheeks of the king. The perfume of sweet flowers 
 rose from the terrace, and below rushed the cascade. The 
 marble groups around the fountain glistened in the golden 
 rays of the sun, and in the dark foliage fluttered and sang the 
 merry birds of summer. 
 
 Suddenly the wind wafted from the church at Potsdam the 
 clear tones of a bell, announcing to the king the hour of four, 
 the death of Voltaire. 
 
 The king walked along to the rose-arbor, to the temple of 
 friendship, where the bust of his sister Frederika was placed. 
 He seated himself near the entrance, listening to the ringing 
 voice of the bell, and recalling that the death-mass had now 
 commenced in Berlin. 
 
 The service sacred to memory! The prayer for the im- 
 mortal soul ! As the lonely king sat there, calm and bowed 
 down, a solemn prayer and holy mass rose from his own soul. 
 He bowed lower his head, and, without realizing it himself, 
 traced letters in the sand at his feet, with no witness but the 
 blue heavens above him, and Windspiel who curiously eyed 
 the lines. Thinking of the prayer for Voltaire's undying 
 soul, the king had written the word of profoundest mystery 
 and revelation, of hope and prophecy — " Immortality. " 
 
 The wind gently rustled in the trees, wafting the perfume 
 of flowers. Sweet stillness reigned around, and lowly sang 
 the birds as if not to waken the king, who slept by the marble 
 form of his beloved sister — Windspiel upon his knees, and in 
 the sand at his feet the word traced by his own hand, 
 "Immortality." 
 
 * The king's words.— See "Posthumous Works," vol. x., p. 10(X 
 
CAGLIOSTRO'S RETURN. ?13 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 CAGLIOSTRO'S RETURN. 
 
 Wilhelmine Enke was still living at her villa at Char- 
 lottenburg. She was, as formerly, the " unmarried " daughter 
 of the hautboy-player, the favorite and friend of the crown 
 prince ; the same as two years previous, when he presented 
 her, before the Bavarian campaign, with this house and 
 grounds. There was no change in her outward circum- 
 stances ; her life passed regularly and calmly. The once fresh 
 and beautiful cheek had lost somewhat of its youthful, roseate 
 hue, and the smile of the ruby lips was less haughty, and the 
 warmth of those brilliant eyes was subdued. This was the 
 only perceptible difference wrought by the little vexations 
 and troubles incident to her position. She had found some 
 bitter drops in the golden goblet which the prince in his love 
 pressed to her lips — drops which were uncongenial to lips ac- 
 customed to the sweets of life. 
 
 To-day she had awaited him at dinner, and had just re- 
 ceived a very friendly but laconic letter, excusing himself 
 until the following morning. This was an unpalatable drop. 
 Wilhlemine paced back and forth the solitary, gloomy path, 
 at the foot of the garden, re-reading this letter, and examin- 
 ing every word to search out its hidden meaning. 
 
 "They have brought this about," she mrumured, tearing 
 the letter into little pieces, which lighted upon the shrubbery 
 like butterflies. " Yes, it is their work. They have sought 
 by all possible means to draw him into their power, and away 
 from me. And they will succeed, as there are two of them, 
 and the princess sustains them ; and I am alone, unsupported. 
 I am entirely alone — alone!" 
 
 " If you are alone, then, it is surely your own fault," said 
 an earnest, solemn voice, and at the same instant a tall form 
 approached from the shrubbery which bordered the side of 
 th-3 garden. 
 
 21 
 
314 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 "Cagliostro!" shrieked Wilhelmine, shrinking terrified 
 away. " Oh, mercy upon me, it is Cagliostro!" 
 
 " Why are you so frightened, my daughter?" he asked, 
 gently. "Why do you withdraw from me, and cast down 
 your eyes?" 
 
 " I thought you were in Courland," she stammered, con- 
 fused. 
 
 " And whilst you thought me afar, you forgot your sacred 
 oath and holy duty," he replied, in a harsh, severe tone. 
 "Oh my daughter, the Invisibles weep and lament bitterly 
 over you." 
 
 "I am curious to see these tears," said Wilhelmine, who 
 had now recovered her self-composure. " Do you think, Herr 
 Magus, any of them could be found in the eyes of Colonel 
 Bischofswerder and his intimate friend Wollner? Do you 
 pretend that they also weep over me?" 
 
 " They do not belong to the Invisibles, but the Visibles. 
 But their souls are true and faithful, and would have to 
 mourn over the unhappy one who could forget her vows." 
 
 " Then allow me to say that I abjure these tears, and laugh 
 at the idea that these hypocrites and necromancers weep over 
 me." 
 
 " My daughter, what words are these, and how strangely 
 altered you are ! I have come from the far north, and but 
 just alighted from the travelling-carriage. I came at once to 
 see you, and hoped to be greeted joyfully with a kiss of love, 
 and what do I hear instead? Harsh words filled with scorn 
 and mockery, and disobedience against the Invisible Fathers, 
 to whom you have sworn fidelity and submission!" 
 
 " You have forced me to it!" she cried, impetuously. " In 
 my own house you came upon me and compelled me to take 
 part in your mystic assembly." 
 
 " If one loves humanity, he must insist upon its accepting 
 happiness," said Cagliostro, solemnly. "We recognized in 
 you one of the elect, one of the great souls which are worthy 
 to see the light, and sun themselves in the rays of knowledge. 
 
CAGUOSTRO'S RETURN. 315 
 
 Therefore we accepted you among the spirits of the alliance, 
 and — " 
 
 " And made great promises, of which not one has been ful- 
 filled. Where is the title of countess, the influence, position, 
 honor, and dignity, which you prophesied to me?" 
 
 "Where are the deeds you promised to perform, the wit- 
 nesses of your fidelity and devotion?" he thunderingly 
 demanded. " You have dared to rebel against the holy 
 alliance ! Your short-sighted spirit presumes to mock those 
 watchful eyes which perceive that you are straying away! 
 Beware — Wilhelmine, beware! I came to-day to warn you, 
 but when I return it will be to punish you. Turn, oh turn 
 while there is yet time ! Submit your will to the Fathers, as 
 you have sworn to do ! The promised reward will not fail, 
 and Wilhelmine Enke will become a countess, a princess, and 
 the most distinguished and powerful will bow before her. 
 The Fathers demand of you repentance, and renunciation of 
 the worst enemies of the Rosicrucians. Members, and even 
 chiefs and pioneers of the Illuminati and Freemasons are wel- 
 comed at your house." 
 
 "Why should they not be?" asked she, smiling. "They 
 are happy, cheerful spirits, void of mysteries, and do not 
 torture people with mysticisms. They have but one aim, a 
 great and glorious one, to free the mind from superstition 
 and hypocrisy. They encounter with open countenance the 
 false devotees who would force men into spiritual servitude, 
 that they may become the slaves of their will. You call them 
 illuminati,' while they have undertaken to illuminate the 
 minds with the beams of knowledge which the Rosicrucians 
 obscure in a mystical fog." 
 
 " Unhappy one, do you dare to say that to me?" cried Ca- 
 gliostro, menacingly. 
 
 "Yes," she responded, keeping her large, brown eyes 
 firmly fixed upon Cagliostro's angry face. " That I dare to 
 repeat to you, and I would also remark that we are not in the 
 mystical assembly of the Rosicrucians, and your familiar *Du' 
 
316 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA, 
 
 is out of place. I belong to the Illuminati, and mingle with 
 the freethinkers. They have not, indeed, promised me titles, 
 honors, or dignities, but they have amused me, have driven 
 ennui from the house, and instead of mysticisms, brought me 
 poesy, and instead of the invisible holy church, the Greek 
 temple. It is possible my life may not be a godly one, but it 
 is as happy as the gods, and that is something in this tedious 
 world." 
 
 "I regard you with astonishment,", said Cagliostro, "for I 
 recognize in your countenance that the devil has won you 
 over to his power, and in you he speaks with the bold in- 
 solence of the sinful. Subdue, unhappy child, your rash 
 -speech, that the Fathers may not hear of it, and crush you in 
 their wrath." 
 
 " I do not fear their thunderbolts, permit me to tell you. 
 We are in Prussia ; the great king watches over all his sub- 
 jects ; neither the Komish Church nor the Rosi crucians can 
 obscure the light of knowledge. He will not suffer a ghost, 
 sneaking in the dark, to exercise power here, and he will not 
 refuse the protection to me which is accorded to the least of 
 his subjects. I do not fear you, and I will tell you the truth 
 entire, I believe you to be a hypocrite and a charlatan, 
 who—" 
 
 "Miserable one!" interrupted Cagliostro, as he furiously 
 rushed to her, seizing her by the arm — " cease, unhappy one, 
 or your life is forfeited to the invisible avengers!" 
 
 Wilhelmine shook her head, and encountered his naming 
 eyes with a proud glance. " I repeat your own words — cease, 
 or your life will be forfeited ! Perhaps you think I do not 
 know what happened to you in Mittau, where you were recog- 
 nized as a charlatan, who fooled the poor creatures into the 
 belief of his miraculous acts, which consisted in lightening 
 their purses to the benefit of his own. You were obliged to 
 flee from Mittau in the night, to save yourself, your treas- 
 ures, and wonderful man-traps, and the beautiful Lorenza 
 Feliciana. Beware! The Empress of Russia had a certain 
 
CAGLIOSTRO'S RETURN. 317 
 
 Joseph Balsamo pursued, who had practised great deception, 
 and people pretend that he resembles Count Cagliostro. The 
 Empress Catherine is a good friend and ally of the King of 
 Prussia, and if the happy idea should occur to me to propose 
 seeking the necromancer here, the Great Kophta might come 
 to a miserable end." 
 
 " On the contrary, it would only be a welcome occasion for 
 the Great Kophta to reveal himself, and hurl his despicable, 
 malicious enemy into the dust at his feet," replied Cagliostro, 
 calmly. " Try it, you faithless, fallen daughter of the In- 
 visibles — try to unloose the pack of my enemies, to recognize 
 that all their yelling and barking does not trouble the noble 
 stag to whom God has given the whole world for His forest- 
 ward that He should rule therein. I have listened to you 
 unto the end, and I regard your invectives and accusations as 
 not worthy of a reply or justification, and I laugh at your 
 menaces. But I warn you, Wilhelmine Enke, defy not the 
 Invisibles, and offend not the Holy Fathers, by your continued 
 resistance. Turn, misguided child of sin — turn while there 
 is yet time ! In their name I offer you a last chance, their 
 forbearance is without bounds, and their mercy long en- 
 during." 
 
 "I neither desire your forbearance nor mercy," cried she, 
 proudly. " I will have no companionship with my enemies, 
 and the Rosicrucians are such, for Bischofswerder and Woll- 
 ner both hate me, and would put me aside. There is no 
 reconciliation where only hostility is possible." 
 
 " The heavenly listen not to the voices of the earthly, and 
 prove themselves the most noble when the least deserved. 
 They will protect and watch over you, even against your will, 
 and never will they be deaf to your cry for aid in the hour of 
 danger. Here is a token of their grace toward you. Take 
 this ring — do you recognize it?" 
 
 Wilhelmine regarded it attentively. " This is the ring 
 which I gave at the tribute-altar instead of gold, which you 
 desired. " 
 
318 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 " The Invisibles sent it to you to-day as the precious pledge 
 of their favor. You shall keep it, and wear it as a token of 
 their heavenly forbearance, and when you turn back from the 
 erroneous ways into which the Illuminati have led you, send 
 it to the circle of Berlin directors, either Bischofswerder or 
 Wollner, and they will come to your rescue. Farewell! I 
 forgive you all your wicked words, which fall like spent ar- 
 rows from the helmet of my righteousness." 
 
 Cagliostro turned proudly away, and disappeared in the 
 bushes. 
 
 Wilhelmine placed the ring upon her finger, turning it to 
 watch the play of colors. "I do not know why," said she, 
 " but it has not the same brilliancy as formerly. I will take 
 it to the jeweller Wagner, and ask him if it is the same stone. 
 Perhaps the Great Kophta has tried some of his miracles upon 
 it. I will at once send the servant to Minister von Herzberg, 
 and inform him that Cagliostro is here. He has promised 
 me protection in the name of the king, and I feel that I shall 
 now have need of it." 
 
 She hurried to the house, and devoted herself to the writ- 
 ing of the said letter — a task she was but little accustomed to. 
 She had learned to speak French very prettily, and to express 
 herself skilfully and wittily in German, and under her royal 
 master, the crown prince Frederick William, gained much 
 valuable scientific knowledge. But to write fluently was quite 
 another thing, and it was a long time before the epistle was 
 finished. However, happily accomplished, she commanded 
 the servant to take it to Berlin. 
 
 He bowed with silent submission ; but once having quitted 
 the house, a cunning smile was visible upon his face, and he 
 availed himself of a stage-coach which was going in the same 
 direction. "I can afford this expense," said he, arranging 
 himself comfortably. "When I have money in my pocket 
 why should I walk the long distance? I was very clever to 
 tell Bischofswerder that the Minister von Herzberg had 
 secretly visited my mistress, and it was equally clever of him 
 
THE TRIUMVIRATE. 319 
 
 to give me a lonis d'or, and promise me the same every time 
 that I should bring him important news. Indeed, I think 
 to-day he may well thank me, and I believe, if I often inform 
 him, he will advance me a degree, and at last I shall be ad- 
 mitted to the circle of the elect, while I now belong to the 
 outside circle, who know nothing and hope every thing." 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 THE TRIUMVIRATE. 
 
 While Wilhelmine's servant gave himself up to his hopes, 
 driving slowly down the broad avenue, an elegant four-in- 
 hand carriage rolled past him, and stopped at the house where 
 lived Colonel Bischofswerder, long before he had reached the 
 Brandenburg Gate. A gentleman sprang out, hastening past 
 the footman into the house, where a servant evidently awaited 
 his arrival, and preceded him with devout mien, throwing 
 open the wide folding-doors and announcing, in a solemn 
 voice — "His excellency, Count Cagliostro." He then re- 
 spectfully withdrew, bowing profoundly as the count passed, 
 and closed quickly and noiselessly the doors behind him. 
 
 The two gentlemen within hastened to meet the count, who 
 nodded smilingly, and extended to them with a gracious con- 
 descension his white hand sparkling with diamonds. " My 
 dear brothers," said he, "you have unfortunately announced 
 to me the truth — Wilhelmine Enke is faithless — is an apos- 
 tate." 
 
 "A courtesan, ensnared by the devil of unchastity," mur- 
 mured the elder of the two — a man of long, lank figure, pale, 
 pock-marked face, the broad high forehead shaded with but 
 little hair, the watery blue eyes turned upward, as if in pious 
 ecstasy, and the large, bony hands either folded as if in 
 prayer, or as if in quiet contemplation, twirling his thumbs 
 around each other. "I have always said so," said he, with a 
 
320 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 long-drawn sigh; "she is a temptress, whom Satan, in bodily 
 repetition of himself, has placed by the prince's side, and his 
 salvation cannot be counted upon until this person is re- 
 moved." 
 
 "And you, my beloved brother, think otherwise — do you 
 not?" asked Cagliostro, gently. 
 
 "Yes," answered Bischofswerder, "you know well, sublime 
 master and ruler, how much I esteem and love the worthy and 
 honorable Wollner, and how much weight his opinion has 
 with me. In all my reports to the Invisible Fathers I have 
 always particularly mentioned him, and it was upon my wish 
 and proposal that they appointed him director of one of the 
 three Berlin circles. He is occupied near me in the con- 
 federacy, and is also in the service of the crown prince, for it 
 was by my especial, earnest recommendation that his high- 
 ness called him to Berlin from the exchequer of Prince Henry 
 at Rheinsberg, that he might give him lectures in politics and 
 other branches of administration. I do not say it to boast, 
 although I have always regarded it as an honor to have opened 
 the way to a distinguished man, to have his great talents 
 properly valued. I only say it to prove my high appreciation 
 of dear brother Wollner, and to defend myself, master, in 
 your eyes, that I differ in opinion from him, and do not ad- 
 vise a violent removal of this person, to whom the prince is 
 more attached than he himself knows of." 
 
 ""It is not necessary to excuse yourself to me, my son," said 
 Cagliostro, pompously. " The eyes which the Invisibles have 
 lighted up with a beam of revelation, see into the depths of 
 things, and reveal the most hidden. I have glanced into 
 your hearts, and I will tell you that which I have therein 
 read. You, Hans Rudolph von Bischofswerder, belong to 
 the world; its joys and sorrows agitate you. You have a 
 longing for science and the knowledge of the Invisibles, and 
 you would also enjoy the Visibles, and take part in the pleas- 
 ures of life. What you would allow yourself, that you would 
 also grant to your royal master, whose friend and leader you 
 
THE TRIUMVIRATE. 321 
 
 are, and who, one day, will be the future king and ruler of 
 the visible world, and a faithful son and servant of the Invis- 
 ibles. Is it not thus?" 
 
 "It is so," answered Bischofswerder, who, with wondering 
 astonishment, drank in every word that fell from Cagliostro 's 
 lips as a revelation. *' You have read the inmost thoughts of 
 my heart, and what I scarcely suspected myself, you are 
 knowing of, lord and master." 
 
 " Toil and strive, my son, and you shall rise to the highest 
 grade, in which presentiment and recognition, thinking and 
 knowing, are one." 
 
 He extended to Bischofswerder his hand, who fervently 
 pressed it to his lips ; then turned to Wollner, who, with up- 
 turned gaze and folded hands, might have been praying, for his 
 thumbs were not turning around, but rested, quietly crossed. 
 
 "You, my son and brother, " continued Cagliostro, with his 
 lofty, haughty reserve, "your thoughts are diverted from 
 earth, and the joys of this world have no charm for you !" 
 
 " I have laid the oath of virtue and chastity upon the altar 
 of the Invisibles," replied TVollner, with a severe tone of voice. 
 "I have given myself to a pious life of abstinence, and 
 sworn to employ every means to lead those that I can attain 
 to upon the narrow path which leads to the paradise of 
 science, of knowledge, and heavenly joys. How could I for- 
 get my oath, which is to win the prince, who is to become a 
 light and a shield in the holy order, from the broad course of 
 vice, to the pathway of the blest? How can I bear to see 
 him lost in sin who is elected to virtue, and who longs for the 
 light of knowledge?" 
 
 " But, in order to bear the light in its brightness, he must 
 have passed through the darkness and gloom of sin," said 
 Cagliostro. " After the days of error follow those of knowl- 
 edge. This is what causes the mildness of our brother The- 
 ophilus, whom the earthly world calls Bischofswerder, whilst 
 you, brother Chrysophorus, demand from the prince the 
 severest virtue, which is the first great vow of the brothers 
 
OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 advancing in the holy order of the Eosicrucians. Yon are 
 both wrong and both right. It is well to be lenient as brother 
 Theophilus, but that mast have its limit, and the night wan- 
 derer who stands npon the brink of a precipice must be 
 awakened, but not with violent words, or calling loudly his 
 name, because a sudden awakening would only hasten his fall. 
 Slowly and carefully must he be roused ; as one would by de- 
 grees accustom the invalid eyes to the mid-day, so must the 
 light of virtue and knowledge dawn upon the eyes, ill from 
 vice, with prudent foresight. Hear my proposal. Summon 
 the three circles of the brothers of the highest degree to a 
 sitting to-night. You have told me that the prince desires to 
 belong to the seeing ones, and be in communion with the 
 spiritual world. This night his wish shall be fulfilled, to see 
 the spirits, and a new future shall rise before him. My time 
 is limited ; let us arrange every thing, for the voices of the 
 Invisibles already call me home." 
 
 At this instant a modest knocking was heard at the door, 
 which was repeated at different intervals. 
 
 "It is my servant," said Bischofswerder, "and he has un- 
 doubtedly an important communication for me." 
 
 He opened the door, speaking with the person outside in a 
 low tone, and returned with a sealed note. 
 
 Cagliostro, apparently, was lost in deep thought and in- 
 different to the conversation without, directing quietly and 
 calmly, in the mean time, a few questions to Wollner, and, 
 as it seemed, listening only to his answers. Yet as Bischof- 
 swerder approached him, saying, "it is, indeed, important 
 news; I have proof in hand that — " he interrupted him with 
 a commanding motion, and finished the broken sentence: 
 " — that Wilhelmine Enke is a powerful adversary, having con- 
 nection with the court, as this letter from her is directed to 
 Minister Herzberg. Is it not this that you would say, 
 Theophilus?" 
 
 Astonished, he replied in the affirmative* begging his mas- 
 ter to read it. 
 
THE TRIUMVIRATE. 323 
 
 "It is unnecessary," replied Cagliostro, waving back the 
 letter ; " to the seeing eyes every thing is revealed. This per- 
 son announces to Minister von Herzberg that the deceiver and 
 necromancer, Cagliostro, in his flight from Mittau, has visited 
 her to menace her. She begs protection for herself and an 
 arrest for me; that I am known as Count Julien, at the hotel 
 King of Portugal, at Berlin, and that haste is necessary." 
 
 Both gentlemen glanced astonished and enraptured, first at 
 the sealed epistle and then at the great Magus. 
 
 "Open the letter and convince yourselves of the contents!" 
 commanded Cagliostro. 
 
 " It is unnecessary," cried Bischofswerder, with enthusiasm. 
 " We recognize in you truth and knowledge ; you have re- 
 vealed to us the contents." 
 
 " Nay, there is a lingering doubt in the mind of brother 
 Chrysophorus!" said Cagliostro, regarding Wollner fixedly, 
 who stood with downcast eyes before him. 
 
 "My ruler and master," stammered Wollner, in confusion, 
 "I dare not doubt, only — " 
 
 "You would only be convinced: open then the letter," in- 
 terrupted Cagliostro, sarcastically. 
 
 With a sharp knife, Bischofswerder cut the end of the en- 
 velope, and handed the letter to him. 
 
 "Give it to Chrysophorus," commanded the count. "He 
 shall read it, and may the incredulous become a believer!" 
 
 Wollner perused the epistle with a slightly tremulous voice, 
 stopping now and then, at an illegible word, which his master 
 quickly supplied to him, finishing the sentence as correctly as 
 if he held the writing in his hand. 
 
 The contents were exactly as Cagliostro had given them, 
 and the farther Wollner read, the more his voice quivered and 
 Bischofswerder 's enthusiasm increased. 
 
 As the reading was finished, the former sank, with uplifted 
 hands, before his master, as if imploring mercy from a 
 mighty, crushing power. 
 
 " I have been unbelieving as Tobias, doubting as Paul ; have 
 
324 OLD FEITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 mercy on me, master ! for in this hour the divine light 
 of belief and knowledge banishes doubt from my sinful heart. 
 I acknowledge thy supernatural power and heavenly wisdom ! 
 My whole being bows in humility before you and your sublim- 
 ity, and henceforth I will only be your humble scholar and 
 servant, the tool of your will. Forgive me, all -knowing one, 
 if my heart doubted. Breathe upon me the breath of knowl- 
 edge, and lay thy august right hand upon my head, and 
 penetrate me with thy heavenly power." 
 
 "Have mercy upon me also," cried Bischofswerder, as he 
 kneeled beside Wollner, and, like him, raised his hands im- 
 ploringly to Cagliostro. " Breathe upon me the breath of thy 
 grace, and regard me, the repentant and unworthy, with thy 
 heavenly glance!" 
 
 Cagliostro looked to heaven, and from his lips there fell 
 disconnected words of exhortation ; suddenly he drew forth 
 his hands, which he had pushed into his gown and crossed 
 upon his breast, stretching them out with wide-spread fingers. 
 
 "Come to me, ye spirits!" he cried, in a loud, thundering 
 voice. "Ye spirits of fire and air, come to me! Ye shall 
 flame and burn upon the heads of these two persons and an- 
 nounce to them that the Invisibles are with us. Come to me, 
 ye spirits of fire!" 
 
 He clinched his fingers, extending them again, and upon 
 the points there danced and flickered a blue light. A heavenly 
 smile shone upon the beautiful face of the Magus, his hands 
 slowly sank upon the heads of the kneeling ones, the flames 
 gliding upon their heads, resting there a moment, and then 
 dying away. 
 
 " The Invisibles have proclaimed themselves to you through 
 the sign of fire," cried Cagliostro. "The sacred flame has 
 glowed upon your heads, and I now press upon your brow 
 the solemn kiss of consecration and knowledge!" 
 
 He bowed down to the kneeling ones. It seemed as if a 
 cloud of perfume had passed over their glowing faces, or as if 
 an odorous lily had been pressed upon their foreheads, and 
 
THE TRIUMVIRATE. 325 
 
 their hearts quivered with delight. He passed his hand 
 lightly over their faces, and a feeling of rapture spread 
 through their whole being. Then as he commanded them to 
 rise, they obeyed, without realizing that they had limbs or 
 body, but regarded the miracle-worker, entranced with his 
 smile. 
 
 Cagliostro, with hasty decision and earnest, commanding 
 air, made a few opposite strokes in the air, and immediately 
 the faces of the magnetized looked as if they had awakened 
 from a dream of splendor and delight to insipid, flat reality. 
 
 " I have permitted you to behold, for an instant, the mys- 
 teries and miracles which are serviceable to the knowing 
 ones," said Cagliostro, with calm earnestness. "Your souls 
 were in communion with the Invisibles, and from the source 
 of knowledge a spark of illumination fell upon your heads. 
 Guard it as a heavenly secret that no one should know of, and 
 now let as continue our conversation." 
 
 " Permit me once more to lay my head at your feet, and 
 receive power from the touch thereof," implored Bischof- 
 ewerder. 
 
 "Let me embrace your knees, and entreat pardon and 
 grace," begged Wollner, as he sank down to clasp them; and 
 the former threw himself at the feet of his master, passion- 
 ately kissing them. 
 
 Smilingly he received their homage, and assisted them to 
 rise. 
 
 "Now let us speak in a human, reasonable manner, my 
 friends. Brother Theophilus, you, first of all, return the 
 letter to the envelope and seal it." 
 
 Bischof swerder obeyed ; taking from the table a little bottle 
 and a small brush, he carefully applied an adhesive substance 
 to the edges, pressing them firmly together. 
 
 " Master, no one could discover that it had been opened. 
 Command what shall be done with it." 
 
 " Give it to your servant, that he may return it to him who 
 brought it, and the latter can now deliver it at its address. " 
 
326 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 "To the Minister Herzberg!" they both cried, amazed. 
 " It is impossible ; he is a sworn enemy of the holy order and 
 your own heavenly person. He could take the most violent 
 measures, and cause your excellency to be arrested." 
 
 "I believe it," smiled Cagliostro. "The great Frederick 
 would announce triumphantly that he had had the great 
 Semiramis of the North taken, which the Russian police had 
 failed to accomplish. It would be a welcome triumph for 
 unbelievers and fools, and they would trumpet it joyfully 
 through the world ! It must not be ; although my spirit in 
 its power and might would soon release my body, yet I will 
 not grant this momentary triumph to my enemies. My time 
 is limited ; I must forth to Egypt, where the Brothers of the 
 Millennium will assemble in the course of a week in the pyra- 
 mids, to announce to me their will for the coming century. 
 I am the Spirit of God, which the Invisibles have willed to 
 enter a human form, therefore it must be regarded as sacred 
 and protected." 
 
 "Allow me to guard, with my life, your sublime person!" 
 cried Bischofswerder. 
 
 " And I also implore you to grant me the happiness to watch 
 over the security of your heavenly self, and defend it to the 
 last drop of my blood!" cried Wdllner ; "only tell us what 
 we have to do." 
 
 " Above all things obey my command concerning the let- 
 ter," replied the count, smiling. 
 
 Bischofswerder submissively went out with the epistle, re- 
 turning in a few moments. " It is as you have ordered : in a 
 quarter of an hour it will be in the hands of Minister Herzberg." 
 
 "No," replied the count, fixing his eyes upon empty space, 
 " it will not be there, for Herzberg is not at home. I now see 
 him driving in a carriage with four black steeds to the coun- 
 try. At this instant he is crossing a bridge, now he enters a 
 town, turning down one of the streets, where the noise of the 
 wheels is lost. Again I hear him, leaving by the gate, amend- 
 ing a broad avenue." 
 
THE TRIUMVIRATE. 32? 
 
 "It is the route to Sans-Souci," murmured Bischofswerder, 
 in a low voice, but the count must have understood him, as 
 he repeated aloud : 
 
 " Yes, that is the route to Sans-Souci, and the lonely, fret- 
 ful old king will keep his minister the entire day, and will 
 not receive the missive from his secret female accomplice until 
 his return in the evening, and then he will dispatch his 
 bailiffs in all haste to the hotel to arrest Count St. Julien, 
 and forward an order to every gate to forbid his departure. 
 It will be too late, however — he will have already departed." 
 
 "Departed!" cried the two gentlemen, frightened. "Will 
 you, then, forsake us?" 
 
 "Hush, my brothers, be quiet!" answered Cagliostro. "I 
 shall have departed for the profane, but I will remain here 
 for the consecrated until to-morrow morning. It oft happens 
 that the lofty even must come down, and the brilliant obscure 
 themselves. To-day I must descend from my spiritual height, 
 and humble myself in the dust of lowliness. When the un- 
 holy and unconsecrated essay to behold that which they 
 should not with their earthly eyes; they must be blinded with 
 earthly dust, and for those which are not worthy of miracles, 
 we must sometimes condescend to jugglers' tricks. By the 
 latter I will mislead my enemies to-day. How many gates 
 are there to the city of Berlin?" 
 
 " There are nine, master." 
 
 " Send immediately messengers around in your circles to 
 order eight travelling-carriages and sixteen large black trunks. 
 Further, send me eight confidential discreet men of my height 
 and size, with eight perukes, exactly the cut of mine. 
 Command four post-horses, with two postilions for eight 
 different addresses. This is all that is necessary for the mo- 
 ment." 
 
 "All shall be faithfully and quickly accomplished," said 
 Bischofswerder, humbly. " We will divide the execution of 
 your orders, and there only remains to appoint the time and 
 place when and where to direct the postilions." 
 
328 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 " All this will follow ; forget not, in trifling, earthly things, 
 the great heavenly eircnmstances. Summon the consecrated 
 of the highest degree of your circle to go to-night to the pal- 
 ace of Prince Frederick William at Potsdam, and under the 
 very eyes of the old freethinking king we will open to the 
 crown prince the doors of the spiritual world, and consecrate 
 him to the highest degree. But first the Invisibles shall 
 speak with him, and announce the heavenly region of the un- 
 approachable. Finish the preparations, my brothers — fulfil 
 exactly and punctually my orders, and then come to the hotel 
 to receive my last commands." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 FUTURE PLAKS. 
 
 Oagliostro quitted the two confidants, entered his carriage 
 awaiting him before the door, and drove to the hotel. The 
 host and chief waiter received him with extreme deference, 
 both accompanying him up the stairs — the latter throwing 
 wide open the large doors of his room. The« count turned, 
 and, in addressing some indifferent question to the host, 
 opened his gold-embroidered blue satin vest. 
 
 The host turned pale, and shrank back, as if seized with a 
 sudden fright. Oagliostro passed on, motioning him to fol- 
 low, which he humbly obeyed, sinking upon his knees as the 
 door closed. 
 
 "Have you recognized the sign which I wear upon my 
 breast?" 
 
 "Yes, master," he stammered, bowing down with the 
 greatest reverence. 
 
 " Then you belong to the elect of the Inner Temple, for the 
 sign of knowledge is only made known to them." 
 
 "I do, indeed, understand its mysteries, master, and I 
 know that one of the Invisibles, in infinite condescension, 
 
FUTURE PLANS. 329 
 
 appears in a visible form before me. Immeasurable as the 
 happiness, is my obedience! Command me, master; my life 
 and riches belong to the holy alliance!" 
 
 " Rise and receive my orders," replied Cagliostro, with great 
 dignity. In a brief, dictatorial manner he communicated the 
 necessary arrangements ; then dismissed him with a haughty 
 nod, and entered the adjoining room of his wife, Lorenza 
 Feliciana. 
 
 She had thrown herself upon the divan, in charming 
 neglige. Her head was encircled with black ringlets, which 
 she wore unpowdered, despite the fashion. Her eyes were 
 closed, and her beautiful shoulders were but half concealed by 
 a black lace veil. 
 
 She slept so quietly and soundly that the count did not 
 awaken her upon entering. He approached her lightly upon 
 the soft carpet, and stood regarding her attentively. A pleas- 
 ant smile spread over his face, softening its expression, and 
 his eyes beamed with passionate tenderness. 
 
 " She is indeed beautiful," he murmured, softly. " No one 
 could withstand the charm of this wonderful woman. Ah, 
 would that I could crush these wicked spirits within me, 
 silence all these seductive, sinful voices, and fly to some se- 
 cluded valley of our dear fatherland, and there, reposing on 
 her love, let life glide calmly on and smile at the past without 
 regret, as a fading dream ! Would that I could forget, and 
 become again pure and innocent, blest in my affection, simple 
 in my tastes, and without wants! But no, it is too late! I 
 cannot retreat, the demons will not be driven out ; to them 
 my soul belongs, and I must fulfil my destiny ! — Awake, Lo- 
 renza, awake!" Her beautiful form shook with fright; she 
 started, opened her eyes, demanding, "What is the matter? 
 Who is here?" 
 
 " It is I, Lorenza," he said, sadly; " I was obliged to awaken 
 you, to tell you something important." 
 
 "Are the pursuers here? Have they discovered us? Aro 
 they coming to take us to prison?" 
 
 22 
 
830 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 * No, no ; be quiet, Lorenza, no one has discovered us !" 
 
 "Quiet!" she repeated, with a scornful laugh. "We have 
 travelled day and night the last ten days, hiding ourselves in 
 miserable holes and dens, under assumed names, believing our 
 pursuers were at our backs ; and now that we are showing 
 ourselves publicly, you ask me to be quiet ! I have slept for 
 the first time since that fearful night in Mittau, and it is very 
 cruel and thoughtless of you to wake me, if the bailiffs are 
 not here, and danger does not menace us." 
 
 " For the moment we are safe, but I have something im- 
 portant to tell you." 
 
 11 Important?" she cried, shrugging her shoulders. " What 
 is of consequence to me, since that night? Oh, when I think 
 of it, I could shriek with rage, I could annihilate myself in 
 despair!" 
 
 " It was indeed a dreadful experience, and my heart quakes 
 when I think of it," said Cagliostro, gloomily. "The secret 
 assembly consisted of the highest and most influential of the 
 Courland nobility. Suspecting no wrong, not even that there 
 could be traitors among the believers who would falsify my 
 spirit apparatus, I gave myself up to conjuring the departed." 
 
 "And I upon my fairy throne," added Lorenza, "couched 
 in the innocent costume of the celestial, only veiled with a 
 silvery cloud, heard a sudden shriek. The room was quite 
 dark ; I saw, upon opening my eyes, that no spirits enlivened 
 it." 
 
 "Every thing failed — that is to say, my assistants let it 
 fail," said the count, "and the assembly began to murmur. 
 Suddenly, instead of the departed princes and heroes, what 
 fearful forms arose!" 
 
 " Apes, cats, and other animals," cried Lorenza, with a loud 
 laugh. " Oh, what an irresistible sight ! In spite of my 
 anger I had to laugh, and laugh I did upon the fairy throne, 
 like—" 
 
 " Like a foolish child who neither knows nor understands 
 danger," interrupted the count. " Your laughing soon ceased 
 
FUTURE PLANS. 331 
 
 in the fearful tumult and uproar. They shrieked for light, 
 the ladies fled, and the men menaced me with loud curses, 
 calling me a charlatan, and threatening my life!" 
 
 "Mine also," cried Lorenza; "oh, what insults and ill- 
 treatment I was forced to listen to ! They rushed upon me, 
 shrieking for the brilliants and money which they had 
 brought me as an offering. How they scolded and called me 
 a deceiver! I was only very beautiful and coquettish, and 
 that was no deception ! I charmed them with my coyness, 
 and they brought me the most costly presents, because I was 
 a virtuous woman. Now they reproached me, demanding a 
 return of them all, which they had forced upon me of their 
 own free will. I was obliged to bear it silently in my costume 
 of innocence, and as goddess I could not defend myself and 
 speak with human beings — who pushed up to the throne. It 
 was a very ridiculous position ; happily I did not quite lose 
 my senses, but let the apparatus play, and disappeared into 
 my dressing-room below, which fortunately closed above me. 
 I dressed, and rushed to your room to rescue my treasures." 
 
 " Even in this extreme danger you only thought of your 
 riches, not of me," said Cagliostro, with a bitter smile. 
 
 " Have you not taught me yourself that money was the only 
 thing worth striving to possess? Have you not revealed to 
 me in wisdom that riches alone make us happy, and procure 
 for us honor, power, love, and constancy? Ah! Joseph, have 
 you not made me the miserable, heartless creature that I am? 
 Can you reproach me that your teaching has borne such good 
 fruit? ' I am happy to be the priestess of wealth, and grateful 
 for what you have made known to me." 
 
 "It is true," sighed Cagliostro, "I have taught you the 
 truth of things; I have disclosed to you the world's motive 
 power. Riches are indeed the god upon earth, toward whom 
 all are pressing, rushing on. We must all follow and serve 
 him as slaves, or be crushed under the wheels of his triumphal 
 car. Men talk and reason about the storm and pressure 
 which is spreading through the world, and finally will reduce 
 
332 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 every thing to storm the eternal and undying bliss of wealth, 
 and press on for gold." 
 
 " To think that we have lost every thing!" cried Lorenza, 
 springing up and stamping with her silken-shod foot ; " every 
 thing is lost that I have been years gaining, by hypocrisy, de- 
 ception, and coquetry. They have robbed me ! The shame- 
 ful barbarians have seized all our effects. The police 
 surrounded the house, guarding every entrance, and we were 
 obliged to escape by the roof into the house of one of the 
 brothers, leaving all our treasures behind." 
 
 " You exaggerate, Lorenza, and represent it worse than it 
 is. Look around ; you are surrounded with luxury and com- 
 fort. Our great undertakings in Courland and St. Peters- 
 burg have failed, it is true, and the Eussian empress has 
 ordered me to be driven away and pursued. But the Invis- 
 ible Fathers have not forsaken me, as they know that I am a 
 useful tool in their hands. They have carefully provided me 
 with money, passports, and instructions. We have lost 
 thousands, but we will regain them, for the future is ours. 
 I am protected by the order, and called to a new and impor- 
 tant mission in Paris, to strive for the sacred aim of the 
 Church." 
 
 " And have they no mission for me?" asked Lorenza. " Is 
 there nothing further for me to do in that city than to be a 
 beautiful woman, and play tricks for my dear husband?" 
 
 " Great events await you in Paris, which we will aid you to 
 prepare. The Invisible Fathers send you before me to the 
 Cardinal de Eohan. You are going to Paris in the service of 
 the revolution of minds. The carriage is ordered, and you 
 are to set off this very hour." 
 
 "And when are you going, Joseph?" Lorenza asked, with 
 a touch of melancholy. 
 
 " I shall officially depart in an hour, but in reality at the 
 same time that the Baroness von Balmore leaves the hotel in 
 her travelling-carriage. Near the waiting-maid will a servant 
 sit upon the box. I shall be he." 
 
MIRACLES AND SPIRITS. 333 
 
 "Officially you depart in an hour; what does that mean?" 
 Cagliostro smiled. " It is a long story and a comical one. 
 Come, seat yourself by me upon the sofa ; repose your head 
 upon me, and listen to what I will relate to you." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 MIRACLES AND SPIRITS. 
 
 Late in the afternoon of the same day a travelling-carriage 
 drove up before the hotel "King of Portugal," in the Burg- 
 strasse, with two large black trunks strapped upon it behind 
 the footman's box, and the postilion, sitting by the coach- 
 man, playing the beautiful and popular air, " Es ritten drei 
 Renter zum Thore hinaus ! " 
 
 Count St. Julien descended the stairs, followed by the host, 
 and nodded in a lofty manner to the two waiters and hostler 
 awaiting him at the entrance, who returned it by a profound 
 bow, at the same time not failing to see the white hand ex- 
 tended with the trinkgeld. 
 
 The host himself closed the carriage door, and the count 
 departed amid the merry peals of the postilion, the former 
 gazing after him with the satisfaction of one who has made a 
 good bargain. The servants watched it, too, until it had 
 disappeared around the corner of the next street. 
 
 At this instant the quivering tones of a post-horn were 
 heard, and an open caleche appeared and stopped before the 
 hotel with two large black travelling-trunks upon it, and the 
 postilion upon the box blowing the popular air, " Es ritten 
 drei Renter zum Thore hinaus ! " 
 
 The host observed the empty carriage with a smile, but the 
 servants asked themselves astonished what it meant, and as 
 they turned and saw Count St. Julien descending the stairs, 
 they were startled. He offered them the usual trinkgeld, 
 entered the carriage, and rolled away with a commanding nod. 
 
334 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 The host seemed speechless with astonishment, and stood Mi 
 if rooted to the spot. The servants stared after the carriage 
 until it turned the corner; when just then a post- horn was 
 heard playing the agreeable melody of " Drei Renter," and a 
 travelling-carriage with two large black trunks drove up to 
 the door. 
 
 The servants turned pale, looking shyly toward the stairs. 
 Slowly and with great dignity Count St. Julien descended, 
 greeting them with a gentlemanly nod as he passed, and, ex- 
 tending his whit 3 hand with a trinlcgeld, mounted his car- 
 riage, and drove away. 
 
 The host stood as if stunned, outside the door, looking 
 right and left with unspeakable terror. The servants trem- 
 blingly fixed their eyes upon the stairs, no longer possessing 
 the power to move, but heard the post-horn, and the carriage 
 which drove up to the door the third time. Slowly and 
 proudly Count St. Julien advanced. It was the same cold, 
 grave face, with the thick black beard, and the powdered 
 peruke, the curls of which overshadowed the brow and cheeks. 
 He wore exactly the same dark-brown cloak over the black 
 velvet dress. The white hand, with broad lace wrist-ruffles, 
 reached them also a trinlcgeld. 
 
 This time the fellows had scarcely self-possession sufficient 
 to take the present, for every thing swam before their eyes, 
 and their hearts one moment almost ceased to beat, and then 
 palpitated with the feverish rapidity of terror. 
 
 " I would run away," murmured the chief waiter, as Count 
 St. Julien for the fourth time drove away, " if my feet were 
 not riveted to the floor." 
 
 "If I could move mine I would have gone long ago," 
 groaned the second waiter, the clear drops standing upon his 
 forehead. " It is witchcraft ! Oh, Heaven ! they are coming 
 again, playing the 'Drei Renter.'' " 
 
 The count descended the stairs for the fifth time, whispered 
 to the hostler, who was quite engrossed counting his money, 
 handed the trinlcgeld to the pale fellows by the door, and 
 
MIRACLES 'AND SPIRITS. 335 
 
 mounted his carriage, driving away amid the merry peals of 
 the post-horn. 
 
 "Julius," murmured the steward, softly, "give my hair a 
 good pulling, that I may awake from this horrible dream. " 
 
 " I cannot," he whimpered, " my hands and feet are lame. 
 I cannot move." 
 
 "I will," said the hostler, courageously stretching forth his 
 hand, and pulling it so vigorously that the steward was fully 
 convinced of the reality of things. 
 
 Again the post-horn sounded the " Drei Renter;" again 
 the carriage stopped before the door, and the count de- 
 scended, giving to every one a gift like the " Madchen aus der 
 Fremde," and for the sixth time rolled away. 
 
 " We are bewitched ; it is a ghost from the infernal regions !" 
 groaned the steward. 
 
 " I cannot abide it any longer — I shall die!" said the second 
 waiter. 
 
 "I do not mind it," said the hostler, as he jingled the 
 money; "if they are ghosts from hell, the eight groschen do 
 not come from there, for they are quite cool. See how — Ah, 
 there comes the count again!" 
 
 For the seventh time he passed down the stairway, by the 
 servants, who were no longer standing but kneeling, which 
 the count received as a proof of their profound respect, and 
 slipped the money into their hands. 
 
 " Praise God, all good spirits!" murmured the head waiter; 
 but neither the count nor the money seemed to be moved by 
 the pious exhortation, for he quietly entered his carriage, and 
 the eight groschen lay in the servant's hand, at which the 
 hostler remarked that he would stand there all night if the 
 count would only continually pass by with groschen. It 
 pleased the count to descend the stairs yet twice more, divide 
 the trinkgeld, and mount hi3 carriage. As he drove away the 
 ninth time, it appeared as if the Drei Renter were deter- 
 mined to drive out of the gate and forsake the hotel " King 
 of Portugal." The host waited awhile, and talked with the 
 
336 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 neighbors, who, roused by the continual blast of the post-horn, 
 were curious to know how it happened that so many guests 
 were departing by extra posts. Whereupon the host, in a 
 hollow, sepulchral voice, his eyes glaring, and shrugging his 
 shoulders, declared that there had been but one gentleman at 
 the hotel, but nine times he had seen him drive away, and 
 the devil must have a hand in the matter ! 
 
 Shaking his head, he returned to the hotel, and found the 
 servants busily counting their money, occasionally casting 
 covetous looks toward the stairs, as if they hoped the count 
 would again descend. 
 
 Exactly as Cagliostro had foretold, Minister Herzberg did 
 not return from Sans-Souci until late in the evening, and 
 then found Wilhelmine's letter in his cabinet. 
 
 Immediately the police were instructed to arrest Count St. 
 Julien at the hotel " King of Portugal." 
 
 An hour later the chief of the police came to say that the 
 count had already been gone two hours. He repeated the ac- 
 count of the host, corroborated by the servants, of nine differ ' 
 ent counts having driven away from the hotel. 
 
 Herzberg smiled. " We have to deal with a very clever 
 scoundrel," said he, "and it is no other than the so-called 
 Count Cagliostro, who was lately exposed as a bold trickster 
 in Mittau and St. Petersburg, and about whose arrest the 
 Empress Catharine is very much exercised. It would be very 
 agreeable to the king to show this little attention to her im- 
 perial highness, and trap the adroit pickpocket." 
 
 " We might succeed in catching him in his flight," remarked 
 the chief. "For the last six months the king has given 
 orders that every passport should be examined at the gates, 
 and the route of the travellers noted down, which is all reg- 
 istered and sent to the king. It would be very easy to dis- 
 cover by which gate he departed, and his route, and then have 
 him pursued." 
 
 " That is well thought of, director ; hasten to put it into 
 execution, and inform us of the result." 
 
MIRACLES AND SPIRITS. 337 
 
 He returned in an hour to the minister's cabinet, shaking 
 his head gravely. " Your excellency, it is very strange, but 
 he is a wizard. This man has driven out of the nine gates at 
 the same hour and minute." 
 
 Herzberg laughed. " This is one of his tricks, and by it I 
 recognize the great necromancer." 
 
 44 Your excellency, this is no trickery, but witchery. It is 
 impossible for any one man to drive out of the nine gates at 
 the same hour, in the same carriage, with two large black 
 trunks and a postilion blowing the same melody, and provided 
 with a correct passport, which he shows and is recognized as 
 Count St. Julien, who is going to Paris by Hamburg. Here 
 are the nine registers from the different gates, all the same, 
 if I am not bewitched and do not read straight." 
 
 "This trick does honor to the count," said Herzberg, smil- 
 ing. " To-morrow you shall accompany me to Sans-Souci and 
 read aloud the registers to the king. Do you think it will be 
 impossible to pursue the count now?" 
 
 " I should be very happy to follow your excellency's judg- 
 ment in this matter, and arrest the rascal in any way that you 
 could point out," said the director. 
 
 " I am convinced that he is in the city ; and driving out of 
 the nine gates at the same time was the best manner to escape 
 being discovered," said Herzberg. "He is concealed in 
 some one of the houses of the brothers, and we shall be obliged 
 to let him escape this time." 
 
 In order the more securely to carry out the initiation of 
 Prince Frederick William, in company with Bischofswerder 
 and Wollner, Cagliostro had arranged his pretended depart- 
 ure. For a long time the prince had expressed an extreme 
 desire to be received into the mysteries of the miraculous and 
 holy order, of which he had heard his friends speak with so 
 much reverence. But he had been put off from time to time 
 with regrets and shrugs of the shoulders, and expressions of 
 the impossibility of granting the request. 
 
 44 The spirits do not always appear even to the consecrated," 
 
338 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 said Bischofswerder. " They make themselves known after 
 many fervent prayers and implorings, and when we have 
 withdrawn from every one who could entice us to doubt or 
 disbelief. I fear that it would be impossible to conjure the 
 spirits of the departed, so long as your highness honors a cer- 
 tain lady with your particular favor, who ridicules the sublime 
 order and mingles with its enemies. How can they appear to 
 those who have just been in the company of a friend of the 
 Illuminati and unbelievers?" 
 
 " The spirit-world only reveals itself to the virtuous and 
 pure," said Wollner, in a harsh, dry voice. "Its inhabitants 
 cannot approach those who are not chaste and innocent, for 
 sin and vice surround them with a thick fog, which keeps 
 them at a distance from the clear atmosphere of the sublime. 
 If you would call up the spirits, you must remove this woman 
 who entices you from the path of virtue, and renders the 
 sphere impure around you." 
 
 Despite the warnings and the great wish the prince had to 
 be received into the spirit- world, and become a member of the 
 highest grade of the Rosicrucians, he could not resolve to for- 
 sake her who had been his friend for ten years, and who had 
 borne shame and degradation on his account, refusing eligible 
 and rich men rather than leave him and become a legitimate 
 wife. Wilhelmine was the beloved of his youth, the mother 
 of his two dear children, and she alone knew how to drive 
 away the ennui which pursued the prince, with her amiable, 
 subtle wit. Nay, he could not be so ungrateful, so heartless, 
 as to reject her who had so tenderly loved him when young 
 and beautiful, now that the first bloom of youth and beauty 
 had faded ! 
 
 Bischofswerder and "Wollner recognized this difficulty, and 
 applied themselves the more energetically for its removal. 
 They supposed that the unexpected arrival of Cagliostro would 
 very naturally appear to the prince as a special messenger, 
 sent, without doubt, from the fathers, to accomplish his con- 
 version. They announced to the prince that the Invisibles 
 
MIRACLES AND SPIRITS. 339 
 
 had taken pity upon his desire for knowledge, and had con- 
 sented to permit him to gaze into the regions of the blest, 
 although he wandered in the path of vice, and that he must 
 hold himself in readiness to accompany the messenger when- 
 ever he should be sent to call him. 
 
 For this reason the crown prince had written to Wilhel- 
 mine that she should not expect him until the following 
 morning, and he did not quit his room the entire day, with 
 excited expectation awaiting the summons. As evening set in 
 the prince was cast down, and quite of the opinion that the 
 Invisibles did not deem him worthy to enter their pure pres- 
 ence, and thought that Wilhelmine must be the hinderance. 
 Whilst he was reflecting whether to sacrifice his beloved to 
 the salvation of his soul, the secret door gently opened, and 
 two men, masked and wrapped in black cloaks, entered and 
 placed themselves near the door. The prince did not remark 
 their entrance, and was quite frightened as he chanced to 
 turn, and saw these two immovable figures. 
 
 With quivering voice he demanded their mission. 
 
 In the same tone, as if one were an echo of the other, they 
 answered, " We desire nothing, but you demand knowledge of 
 the spirit- world, and would have its mysteries revealed to you, 
 which the Invisibles will now grant you. Follow us, there- 
 fore!" They reopened the secret door; one of the masked 
 preceded the prince, and the other followed him. 
 
 The prince shuddered at the thought that he might be 
 rushing into some unknown danger, and intrusting himself to 
 those who would misuse his confidence. He demanded to see 
 their faces, declaring himself prepared to follow, when ac- 
 quainted with his guides. 
 
 "It would then be better to remain," replied one of the 
 masked. " He who lacks confidence is not worthy of it, and 
 he who trusts only the visibles, the Invisibles flee." 
 
 The prince recognized the voice of Bischofswerder, and 
 smiled, but he knew not that it was permitted him to hear 
 it to inspire him with courage. 
 
340 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 * Well, so let it be ; the fathers shall see that I am a he* 
 liever," cried the prince. 
 
 Immediately one of the brothers put his own cloak, three- 
 cornered hat, and mask npon his highness, still remaining 
 cloaked and masked himself, much to the astonishment of the 
 passive prince. "Come, now, the Invisibles await you," said 
 one of the masked. The prince stepped courageously into 
 the little corridor which led to the secret stairway, one brother 
 preceding him, causing a soft light to illumine their path, 
 the other following him. 
 
 In silence they reached the side-door of the palace, where 
 a close carriage awaited them. 
 
 "Where are you taking me?" asked Frederick William, as 
 he entered, followed by the two brothers. 
 
 "To the Invisibles," answered a strange voice. 
 
 Again the prince essayed to begin a conversation, his only 
 response being, "Purify your heart and pray." Silently they 
 galloped over paved and unpaved streets, the prince heartily 
 repenting having been drawn into this adventure. He 
 thought of his charming and beloved Wlihelmine, and half 
 determined to give the command to drive to Charlottenburg. 
 The fact of Bischofswerder being with him, and fearful of 
 appearing weak and wanting in courage in the eyes of his 
 friend and favorite, prevented him. 
 
 After several hours' drive, they stopped at the marble pal- 
 ace of Potsdam, near the one which the prince was accus- 
 tomed to occupy. His highness looked cautiously around, 
 and breathed more freely, as he felt that he was now surely 
 among friends. 
 
 The white palace stood silent and deserted in the darkness, 
 this palace at Potsdam being only used for the guests of the 
 king. The carriage stopped at the side-door, where there 
 was no sentinel, and they alighted, entering the palace, wind- 
 ing along the corridors in the same order as before, guided by 
 the glimmering light of the one preceding. Solemn music, 
 strange ringing sounds, fell upon the ear as they advanced. 
 
MIRACLES AND SPIRITS. 341 
 
 Sometimes they were sharp and cutting as glass, then threaten- 
 ing and penetrating as the wind, shrieking and moaning, 
 causing one to be very nervous if not terrified. 
 
 The farther they proceeded the louder grew the sounds, and 
 at intervals groans, moans and wailings were heard, as of 
 those waiting and imploring for mercy. 
 
 One of the brothers now opened a door, and then placing 
 themselves upon each side, the unknown voice announced to 
 the prince that they had arrived at the long-sought -for goal. 
 
 "What have we come here for?" asked the prince. 
 
 " To behold that which you have many times petitioned to 
 be permitted to see," replied Bischofswerder, gently encourag- 
 ing and inspiring Frederick William. " The Invisibles have 
 at last yielded to your wishes, and the spirits which you sum- 
 mon will appear. If your courage fails you, and you dread 
 the presence of the departed, command to be reconducted to 
 your palace, and we will obey; but renounce forever the 
 sublime happiness of beholding the Invisibles and of holding 
 communion with the spirit- world!" 
 
 "I fear not, but wish to be in the company of the spirits," 
 answered the prince, proudly. 
 
 "Kneel," they commanded, permitting him to enter, "and 
 thrice summon in a loud voice the names of three departed, 
 who will answer your questions. Beware of approaching 
 them, for their glance is death and their breath destruction ! 
 Therefore remain kneeling, as it becomes a mortal in the 
 presence of an immortal. Hope and pray, brother!" 
 
 As the door closed upon the prince, and he found himself 
 in such impenetrable darkness, he sank upon his knees, for 
 he dared not advance, and retreat was impossible, in spite of 
 heart-quakings. 
 
 The shrill, penetrating music ceased, and a voice from a 
 distance called : " Summon thrice those that thou desirest to 
 see." 
 
 " Marcus Aurelius, Leibnitz, and the distinguished elector," 
 called the prince in a loud voice. 
 
342 OLD 'FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 "Who summoned me?" was responded in hollow, sepul- 
 chral tones, and directly over the crown prince a blue, vapor- 
 ous light was visible — at first only a cloud, then by degrees 
 increasing and condensing itself into a human shape, until it 
 took the form of a Eoman warrior of the olden time ; no 
 other than Marcus Aurelius, in helmet and coat-of-mail, with 
 a pale, earth-colored face and glaring eyes. 
 
 "Who summoned me?" repeated the figure. The prince's 
 lips refused to respond, and shuddering he gazed upon the 
 corpse-like face, so exact in feature to the old Eoman emperor. 
 
 "You answer me not!" thundered the voice, "but I will 
 tell you who you are — one lost in sin and an apostate ! — the 
 crown prince of Prussia, a future king, who will be called to 
 govern a people, and knows not self-government! Turn 
 from the path of vice while it is yet time ; rise from the dust, 
 that the ashes of retribution do not bury you in a living 
 tomb, like the sinful Pompeians. No monument marks the 
 place of the sinful; he sinks into the night of oblivion, or he 
 is cursed by succeeding generations. Therefore turn from the 
 errors of sin. Eise to virtue, that the blessed may approach 
 you. I shudder in your presence. Woe to you! woe! woe!" 
 
 The cloud-portrait vanished, and darkness reigned for a 
 moment. The prince cried in anguish: "I will hear no 
 more; this air oppresses me — open the door — I renounce 
 communion with the spirits; I will go out!" 
 
 The light reappeared in the dark room and another form 
 hovered over the prince — of grave, obscure face, with a great 
 peruke, staring at him. He recognized the distinguished 
 philosopher Leibnitz, whom he had desired to see, but who 
 now filled him with unspeakable terror. Like the former 
 spirit, he also, when unanswered, reproached the erring 
 prince, conjuring him to return to virtue. 
 
 As the menacing ghost disappeared, the prince felt for the 
 door, and shook it with the power which terror lends, crying, 
 " Open, open!" It opened not, and the third summoned, the 
 great elector, Frederick William, appeared, with high, up- 
 
MIRACLES AND SPIRITS. 343 
 
 lifted arm, glittering eyes, advancing with angry mien, shak- 
 ing his lion's mane against the erring son of his honse, 
 whom he menaced with curses and revenge, if he did not re- 
 nounce the courtesan who had seduced him to vice and un- 
 chastity. 
 
 "I will become better," groaned the prince. "I will per- 
 form the wish of the spirits. Only have mercy on me — free 
 me. Help ! help ! Open the door, Bischofswerder, I will do 
 better. Open the door!" 
 
 This time it really opened, and a long train of dark, masked 
 forms entered the dusky room surrounding the prince, wring- 
 ing their hands, imploring him to turn from sin, and forsake 
 the unholy woman. 
 
 They whimpered, they implored, sinking upon their knees, 
 beating their clinched hands, and weeping : " Turn, beloved 
 elect ! Renounce Wilhelmine Enke ; renounce vice ! Repulse 
 the seductress, and turn your countenance to Virtue which 
 you have seen in all her beauty!" 
 
 " I will perform that which you demand," wept the prince, 
 as the deathly terror and nervous excitement made him 
 yielding. 
 
 " Swear!" cried the chorus of masks. 
 
 "I swear that Wilhelmine Enke shall no longer be my 
 mistress. I swear by all that is holy that I will renounce 
 her! I—" 
 
 Voice failed him ; there was a ringing and buzzing in his 
 ears ; every thing swam before his eyes, and he sank faint- 
 ing. The prince awoke after long unconsciousness, and 
 found himself upon his bed in the new palace at Potsdam, 
 Bischofswerder at his side, watching him with the tenderest 
 sympathy. He bent over him and pressed his hand to his 
 lips with a cry of delight. " Heaven be praised ; my dear 
 prince, you have awaked to commence a new life ! You now 
 belong to the virtuous and honorable, whom the Invisible 
 Fathers bless!" 
 
 "Is it true, Bischofswerder," said the prince, languidly, 
 
344 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 " that I have sworn to renounce Wilhelmine Enke, and never 
 to love her more?" 
 
 "You have sworn it by all that is holy, and all in heaven 
 and on earth have heard your oath, and there is joy thereat." 
 
 The prince turned his head, that Bischofswerder might not 
 see the tears streaming down his cheeks. 
 
 CHAPTEK XXXIII. 
 
 THE RETURN" HOME. 
 
 The beautiful house which Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthe^. 
 possessed upon the finest street in Berlin, " Unten den Lin- 
 den," had been newly arranged and splendidly ornamented 
 since his marriage and elevation to a title, and now awaited 
 his arrival. For many weeks mechanics and artists had been 
 busily employed ; and the good housekeeper, old Trude, saw 
 with bewildering astonishment the daily increasing splendor 
 of gilded furniture, costly mirrors and chandeliers, soft car- 
 pets, tapestries, and gold-embroidered curtains, exquisite 
 paintings and statuary, which the possessor had forwarded 
 from Italy, and many other objects of art standing upon gilt 
 and marble tables. 
 
 Every thing was completed. The bustle of the busy work- 
 men had ceased, and Trude slowly wandered through the 
 solitary rooms, examining every article. Her face bespoke 
 dissatisfaction, and a smile of contempt was visible there. 
 
 " Miserable trash, for which they have sold my poor child !" 
 murmured the old woman. " For these worthless, glittering 
 toys have they ruined the happiness of the dear innocent 
 heart, and on them the guilt will fall if her soul is lost ! I 
 remark how she is changed in her letters since her shameful, 
 mercenary marriage. She writes of nothing but the arrange- 
 ment of her house, and speaks as if the beauty and costliness 
 of things were only to be thought of, and there is not even a 
 
THE RETURN HOME. 345 
 
 confidential, heart-felt word for her old Trade. It would 
 seem as if she had forgotten all former objects of interest. 
 Oh, what trouble and sorrows the rich have ! That good-for- 
 nothing money hardens their hearts and makes them evil and 
 selfish." 
 
 The loud ringing of a bell sounded through the solitary- 
 drawing-rooms. 
 
 "That is, undoubtedly, the general's wife," said Trade, 
 shaking her head. " She rings as if she would announce the 
 king, with her nose turned up so high, or as if she were the 
 money-sacks of her son-in-law!" 
 
 Trude was right ; her shrill voice was heard ordering the 
 steward, who had but just arrived. " It is abominable, it is 
 unheard of!" she cried, as with a heavy push she burst open 
 the door ; " this man presumes to contradict me, and — ah, 
 there you are, Trude!" 
 
 " Here I am," she answered; "were you looking for me?" 
 
 " Yes, and I would ask you if my orders are not the same 
 as if given by Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthen or his wife, or 
 have you instructed the new steward otherwise, which, it is 
 laughable to say, you have engaged?" 
 
 " No, I have not instructed him thus. Dear Marie has not 
 ordered it in her letter." 
 
 " Dear Marie," repeated Frau von Werrig. " How can you 
 permit yourself to speak so intinately of the rich Baroness 
 von Ebenstreit?" 
 
 " Very true, it is not right," sighed Trude ; " I beg pardon. " 
 
 " I came here to see if every thing was in readiness, and 
 ordered the steward to ornament the doors and corridors with 
 garlands of flowers; he has had the boldness to tell me he 
 dares not do it!" 
 
 " He is right, Frau von Leuthen. Baroness Ebenstreit von 
 Leuthen (have I got the title right?) wrote and expressly for- 
 bade any festivity to greet her arrival. Here is the letter — I 
 carry it around with me; I will read it to you: 'I expressly 
 forbid any manifestation whatever to be made at our return, 
 
346 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 whether of garlands or flowers, as they are only hypocrisy and 
 falsehood. I wish no one there to receive me — remember, 
 Trude, no one ! Inform my family that, as soon as I have 
 recovered from the fatigue of the journey, I will make them 
 the visit of duty with the baron. ' " 
 
 " What cold, heartless words are these ! One could hardly 
 believe that a daughter was writing of her parents." 
 
 " On her wedding-day she perhaps forgot that she had any," 
 said Trude, shrugging her shoulders, " and she should not be 
 at once reminded of that trying occasion on her return. I 
 expect her every moment, as the courier has already arrived 
 an hour ago, and it would be better — " 
 
 "You cannot be so impudent as to tell me to leave? In- 
 deed, I will not be prevented from waiting to receive my only 
 child that I have not seen for three years. One can well be- 
 lieve that a mother would be impatient to embrace her dear 
 daughter ! I have no other happiness but my beloved child, 
 and I long, unspeakably, to press her to my heart and tell her 
 my sorrow. " 
 
 "Sorrow! is it possible that Frau von Werrig has any 
 griefs? I supposed there was nothing in the world troubled 
 her." 
 
 " And yet I am very much tormented. I can well tell you, 
 Trude, as you are familiar with our circumstances," sighed 
 the countess. " You know the general is tolerably well ; the 
 journeys to Wiesbaden and Teplitz have cured him of the gout 
 unfortunately, so that he can go about." 
 
 " Are you sorry for that, Frau von Werrig?" 
 
 " Certainly I am, Trude, as he has returned to his former 
 habits, frequenting the society of drinking-houses and gam- 
 blers. Imagine the general played yesterday, lost all his 
 ready money, and that was not enough, but signed away the 
 year's pension from Herr von Ebenstreit, during which time 
 we have nothing but the miserable army annuity to live 
 upon. " 
 
 " Then your income will be less to live upon than formerly, 
 
THE RETURN HOME. 347 
 
 for dear Marie earned something with her flowers and lessons 
 which she gave to you, although she was never thanked for 
 it. She was then my dear good Marie, so industrious and 
 patient, and worked untiringly for her parents ! Then she 
 forgot them not, and toiled early and late, and, oh, it breaks 
 my heart to think of it, and I must cry in your presence! 
 
 She raised the corner of her dark-blue apron and dried her 
 eyes, holding it there as she continued to weep. 
 
 "What an ugly apron!" cried the countess, "and how 
 meanly you are dressed altogether ! Is that the way you in- 
 tend to go looking as the housekeeper of a rich and genteel 
 family? Go, Trude, quickly, and put something better on, 
 that you may receive your master and mistress in a suitable 
 
 " I shall remain as I am, for I am very properly dressed. 
 It may not be suitable for a housekeeper, but it becomes old 
 Trude, and it is my Sunday frock, which I always wore when 
 I was maid-of -all -work to you. You may not remember it, 
 but dear Marie (I should say Baroness von Ebenstreit) will, 
 perhaps, and it may recall her little room in the garret, and 
 then—" 
 
 " And then she will at last think, Trude, how we took care 
 of her, and how thankful she ought to be to her parents that 
 they married her to a rich man. If Marie sees it at last — " 
 
 "You forget with whom you speak, Frau von Werrig," 
 Trude interrupted her, scornfully, " and that it does not be- 
 come you to speak of Marie to old Trude, but you should 
 remember her title." 
 
 "Well, then, when Baroness von Ebenstreit enters this 
 costly house, she must understand that her mother was mind- 
 ful of her best interests, and that she owes all this to her ; and 
 you, Trude, must remind her of it, and tell her about my 
 dreadful trial with her father, and that it is my daughter's 
 duty to release me from it, and beg her husband not to deduct 
 the gambling-debt from the pension, but pay it this once. 
 For it would be a dreadful injustice to make me suffer for 
 
348 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 the general's rage for play, and show but little gratitude for 
 the riches which I brought her. You will tell my daughter 
 all this, Trude, and — " 
 
 "I will not tell her any thing at all, Erau von Werrig," in- 
 terrupted Trude, warmly. " May my good genius keep me 
 from that, and burdening my conscience with such false- 
 hoods. — Hark! A carriage is coming, and a post-horn 
 sounded. They have arrived!" 
 
 Old Trude hurried out just as they drove up to the door. 
 The steward and two servants in livery rushed down the steps 
 to assist them to alight, and Trude also to greet her favorite, 
 who was now so pale, grave, and chilling in her appearance. 
 
 The large eyes of the lady rested with cold indifference 
 upon the old woman, whose eyes were turned to her with the 
 tenderest expression. "I thank you," she said, coldly. 
 "Husband! I beg you to give me your arm." Proudly she 
 passed the statuary, and over the soft carpets without com- 
 ment, or even a word for old Trude. 
 
 The steward and housekeeper followed the silent couple. 
 
 "Shall I take you to your room first?" asked Ebenstreit, 
 * or will you do me the pleasure to look at the newly-arranged 
 drawing-rooms ? ' ' 
 
 "Certainly," she replied, with indifference. "We will 
 first look at the drawing-rooms, as we shall probably receive 
 much company this winter, and they are of the first impor- 
 tance. You know that I dislike solitude." 
 
 "Indeed, I recall that we are very seldom alone!" sighed 
 her husband. 
 
 "It would be fearful if we were," replied his wife, with 
 marked indifference. 
 
 The steward just now opened the little door of the ante- 
 room, sparkling with chandeliers and mirrors. " Ah ! this is 
 really beautiful, and well chosen," cried Ebenstreit, looking 
 about with an air of great pride and satisfaction. " Tell me, 
 Marie, is it not worthy of you?" 
 
 Glancing coldly around, she replied: "It does not please 
 
THE RETURN HOME. 349 
 
 me at all. The furniture is very costly, and reminds one of 
 the parvenu. Every thing recalls the riches of the newly- 
 titled banker." 
 
 Her husband's brow contracted, but he did not trust him- 
 self to contest his dissatisfaction with his cold, proud wife, 
 but sought another vent for it. 
 
 " You are very unkind, Marie. Have the goodness to tell 
 me how you, with these severe ideas, can suffer that Trude 
 for a moment should appear before us in this poor-looking 
 dress, which, indeed, does not recall any wealth!" 
 
 Frau von Ebenstreit's eyes glanced quickly over the old 
 woman, who, she said, was the only object which did not 
 bespeak the gaudiness of newly-acquired wealth, but she ap- 
 peared as the respectable servant of an old and noble family 
 in fitting dress. " Remain as you are, Trude, and do not let 
 yourself be misled by our follies! I — but what is that I 
 see?" she cried as the steward opened the next door at the 
 silent nod of her husband. 
 
 "Oh, my beloved children, there you are at last; after 
 three years' absence I have the happiness to embrace you, my 
 only daughter," cried Frau von Werrig, as she approached 
 them with outstretched arms and an affectionate smile, essay- 
 ing to throw her arms around Marie's neck, who waved her 
 back. 
 
 " My child, my child," whimpered the mother, "is it possi- 
 ble that my daughter can receive me thus after so long a 
 separation?" 
 
 Turning to Trude, Marie asked her, with a reproving look 
 and tone, if she had received her letter, or if she had forgot- 
 ten her express commands that no one but the servants should 
 be in the house to receive them. 
 
 " I did not forget it, my lady, and I have read the order? 
 to Frau von Werrig, but she — " 
 
 " Knew that this wish had no reference to her, as she is her 
 mother. — Tell me, my beloved son, is it not very natural and 
 fitting that I should be here to receive you?" 
 
350 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 " I find it a matter of course," answered Von Ebenstreit, to 
 whom it appeared a relief to find an ally in the mother against 
 his proud and beautiful wife. "I rejoice to see our dear 
 mother here, and I beg Marie will join me." 
 
 Marie cast an angry glance toward her husband, which so 
 confused and perplexed him, that he looked down. Then 
 advancing toward the drawing-room, with her usual cold de- 
 meanor, without further comment upon the ostentatious fur- 
 niture, she commanded her husband to follow, who obeyed, 
 giving his arm to his mother-in-law. 
 
 "Oh, this is glorious!" he cried, smiling. "What splen. 
 dor, what luxury! Tell me, my dear mother, is not this 
 beautiful reception-room very aristocratically and appropri- 
 ately fitted up?" . 
 
 " I should think a princess or a queen might be satisfied 
 with it," she cried, with enthusiasm. "Even in royal pal- 
 aces there is nothing of the kind to compare to this gold- 
 embroidered tapestry." 
 
 "Baron," said Marie, commandingly, "have the kindness 
 to dismiss the steward. I wish to speak, with you and Frau 
 von Werrig." 
 
 The steward slipped out without waiting to be sent, and 
 Trude stood near the door, turning to the young baroness* 
 as if to ask if she might remain. 
 
 "Did you not hear, Trude?" cried the mother, impatiently. 
 "Tell her to go!" 
 
 "Eemain, Trude," said Marie, quietly. "You are familiar 
 with the past. I have nothing to deny to you; shut the door 
 and stay here. — And now," she continued, as her voice lost 
 its gentleness, when she addressed her mother, " if it is agree- 
 able to you, I should like to have an understanding with 
 you!" 
 
 "But, my child," sighed the mother, "how strangely 
 altered you are ! You address me, your mother, as Frau von 
 Werrig, and you speak to Ebenstreit in a very formal manner, 
 who has been your dear, faithful husband for three years. — 
 
THE RETURN HOME. 351 
 
 Oh, my darling son, what does this ceremonious manner 
 mean?" 
 
 "The very first hour, after our marriage, that we were 
 alone, my dear Marie severely reproved me for having ad- 
 dressed her in an intimate, affectionate manner, like the 
 common class, as she called it, and I have never done so 
 since." 
 
 "You must be convinced that I am right," said Marie, 
 calmly, " and that it does not become two beings, who neither 
 love nor esteem each other, and who live in the most cere- 
 monious manner, to address one another with endearing 
 epithets. At any rate we are not accountable to any one, and 
 Frau von Leuthen must know the relations we bear to each 
 i>ther in the so-called marriage, as it is her arrangement for 
 the most part." 
 
 "And I pride myself upon it," she cried, with animation. 
 " I have brought about this marriage, which is good fortune 
 to us, and I hope my daughter will prove her gratitude, and 
 oiy son will show me the affection he has so often sworn to me." 
 
 " I do not know what my husband may have sworn to you, 
 but permit me to say, I do not understand whom you, Frau 
 von Werrig, address as daughter here; if you accidentally 
 refer to me, you are in error ; I have never possessed a mother 
 to love me, although formerly, during long years I endeavored 
 with tender assiduity to win a parent's heart. That is long 
 past, however. The very day that I married Herr von Eben- 
 streit I renounced all family ties, and resolved to be self- 
 reliant. My husband will witness that he has never known 
 me to yield, and that I have always been firm and resolute in 
 my decision." 
 
 "No one would doubt it," replied Ebenstreit, timidly. 
 " We had a very strange marriage, which scarce deserves the 
 name. We resemble more two companions who have joined 
 in business, the one side reluctantly, and the other joyfully. 
 I long for a happy married life, which has been quite impos- 
 sible thus far." 
 
552 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 " And will be to the end, which you will yet learn ; and 
 Fran von Werrig should understand it, as she brought about 
 the union, and should not be in doubt as to the conclusion." 
 
 " I acknowledge that I am almost speechless and quite par- 
 alyzed with that which I see and hear. I should doubt that 
 this cold, proud woman before me were my daughter, if it 
 were not for the name she bears, and her features." 
 
 " That which you and my husband have caused me to be- 
 come. He knew that I neither loved nor esteemed him, and 
 that a union with him seemed so unendurable that I would 
 have sought refuge in death, if I had not vowed to support 
 life to attain the aim which I imposed upon myself. That is 
 all past ; it is the future which we must arrange. I am glad 
 that you are here, Frau von Werrig, that we may understand 
 each other once for all; but you came against my wishes." 
 
 " You must excuse it, dear Marie. It was the longing of a 
 mother's heart which led me hither ; the love — " 
 
 A cold, contemptuous glance of the large eyes caused the 
 mother to cease, and quail before her daughter. 
 
 After a short pause Marie continued : " I wish to exercise 
 alone and unhindered the executive rights of a lady in her 
 own house. Do you acknowledge the justice of this, my 
 husband?" 
 
 " Perfectly and unconditionally, dear Marie. You know 
 that I have no other will but yours, which is my highest hap- 
 piness to submit myself to in all things, always hoping to gain 
 your love and win your heart; that — " 
 
 "That this woman has changed to stone," said Marie, 
 coldly, pointing to her mother. " As you then recognize me 
 as the mistress of this house, I shall avail myself of my just 
 right, and no one can prevent me, for I stand alone, absolved 
 from all family ties. By my birth and your riches, I shall 
 occupy the position of a woman of the world, and as such I 
 shall live." 
 
 "I am delighted to hear it, Marie," cried her husband. 
 " For this reason I have had the drawing-rooms furnished in 
 
THE RETURN HOME. 353 
 
 the most costly manner, and I shall be proud to receive the 
 aristocratic society who will come to render homage to my 
 wife, as they have done everywhere in Paris, London, Rome, 
 Madrid, and St. Petersburg. We have frequented the high- 
 est circle in all these cities, and they have crowded our draw- 
 ing-rooms, charmed with the beauty, distinguished manners, 
 and tone of the world, of your daughter." 
 
 " I beg of you to make but one subject the sole object of 
 our conversation," said Marie, harshly. "I have said that I 
 will avail myself of the privilege, as mistress of this house, of 
 receiving no one whom I do not wish to see, and no one can 
 enter without my consent. Is it clearly understood, husband ?"" 
 
 "Yes," he answered, somewhat agitated; "it is the right 
 of every housekeeper — I understand you." 
 
 " It is also clear to me," cried Frau von Werrig, with diffi- 
 culty suppressing her wrath. " But I will await the decisive 
 word, and see whether it is possible for a daughter to have 
 the insolent presumption to drive her mother from her house!" 
 
 " I have already informed you that I have no mother, and 
 that no one has the right to call me daughter. If you await 
 my decision, you shall now hear it: you are not included 
 among those that I wish to receive in my house!" 
 
 "Ah, dear Marie, you are cruel!" cried her husband, quite 
 frightened. 
 
 " She is a degenerate, good-for-nothing creature!" cried the 
 mother. 
 
 " If I am so, who has caused it but you, both of you? Who 
 broke my heart, and crushed it under foot until it ceased to 
 feel, and turned to stone? Bear the consequences of your 
 cruelty and heartlessness ! I cannot change it, and I repeat, 
 Frau von Werrig has not the right to enter this house, or to 
 remain here any longer!" 
 
 Scalding tears fell from the mother's eyes as she shrieked,. 
 " She drives me from her house!" 
 
 " I am only treating you as you behaved to one of the 
 noblest and best of men," replied Marie, voice and look be- 
 
354 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 traying her deep feeling. " You thrust from your door, with 
 scorn and contempt, a, man worthy of your esteem and recog- 
 nition, although you knew that my heart was breaking. I 
 am only following your example and exercising my just 
 rights, and am less guilty than you are, as neither of us has 
 need of the respect or esteem of the other." 
 
 " Can you suffer this, my son? Do you allow any one in 
 your presence to treat me so shamefully? After all, it is your 
 house ; do speak and exercise your right as master here : tell 
 your wife that I am her mother, and you, my adopted son, 
 who bears my name, and that I have the just right to come 
 here as often as it pleases me." 
 
 "Speak your mind to Frau von Werrig," said Marie, as 
 Ebenstreit remained silent. " Decide which shall remain, as 
 one or the other of us must leave ; you are perfectly free to 
 choose." 
 
 "Then, naturally, there is no choice left me," replied 
 Ebenstreit, despondingly. " I declare myself for my wife, of 
 course, who is the noblest and proudest beauty in Berlin, and 
 will make my house the centre of attraction to the aristocracy, 
 nobility, and wealth. This is my greatest pride, and to se- 
 cure this I wooed my beautiful bride, and have submitted to 
 all the sorrow and humiliation which have been my portion. 
 If I must choose between the mother and daughter, I naturally 
 prefer the latter." 
 
 " He abandons me also!" cried the mother. "You are an 
 ungrateful, wretched man ! You forget that you owe every 
 thing to me, and that without me you were a miserable mer- 
 cenary, whose stupidity and tediousness were the ridicule of 
 every one, and you had never gained the entrance to a genteel 
 house. What have you now become? A high-born man, 
 whose house every one will crowd, and who could even appear 
 at court, as he bears our noble and distinguished name. To 
 whom do you owe all this, but to me alone?" 
 
 " God in heaven, Thou hearest it!" cried Marie, solemnly, 
 with uplifted arms. " She acknowledges that she alone has 
 
THE RETURN HOME. 355 
 
 brought this misfortune upon me, and in this hour I stand 
 justified." 
 
 "Pardon, Frau von Werrig," said Ebenstreit, haughtily; 
 " you are going too far. After my fortune, I thank you for 
 my position. I am certainly of insignificant birth, but I am 
 ambitious and rich. I said to myself, 'Money can bring about 
 all that I wish,' and you see it has accomplished it. My 
 wealth procured me a title, a splendid house, a beautiful wife, 
 and a position in society. I acknowledge that you aided me 
 in the carrying out of my plans, but you would not have done 
 it, if I had not been in a position to pay you. You receive 
 a very considerable annuity from me, therefore you cannot 
 accuse me of ingratitude, but must confess that you have 
 driven a very good bargain. You must forgive me if I beg 
 of you to end this painful scene." 
 
 "That means that I must leave," said Frau von Werrig, 
 mildly, remembering the gambling debt and the annuity. 
 " Very well, I will go, and promise you never to return, upon 
 two conditions." 
 
 " Have the goodness to communicate them," said Ebenstreit. 
 
 " The first is, pay the gambling-debt of my husband, who 
 has played away the entire sum you allow us yearly, and do 
 not deduct it from our income. The second is, increase your 
 allowance five hundred thalers, without letting the general 
 know it, and pay it to me." 
 
 "It is impossible," cried Ebenstreit, terrified. "You mis- 
 take me for a Croesus, whose wealth is inexhaustible. If this 
 expenditure and demand increase, my colossal fortune will be 
 entirely wasted, and — " 
 
 "You exaggerate," interruped Marie, with a peculiar brill- 
 iancy in her eyes. " Such wealth as yours is never-ending, 
 and the banking business, which you are still engaged in under 
 another name, is an inexhaustible source of wealth. I beg 
 you to accept these conditions, that we may at last be at 
 peace." 
 
 "Very well," said Ebenstreit, to whom the words of Marie 
 
356 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 sounded as the sweetest music. "I will then accord your 
 wishes, and you shall have the five hundred thalers for your- 
 self." 
 
 " For me alone?" 
 
 "Yes, for yourself alone, Frau von Werrig." 
 
 "Who vouches for the fulfilment of your promise?" 
 
 "My word, Frau von Werrig." 
 
 " I have no confidence but in a written promise." 
 
 " Then I will have it made out, and bring you the document 
 to-morrow morning." 
 
 "Then our business is finished, and I can go. — Farewell, 
 baroness ; this is my last word to you. I cursed you from the 
 moment you came into being. If you had been a son, the 
 rich estate in trust of my family would have passed to you, of 
 which I was the natural heir. As it was, it went to a distant 
 relative, and we received nothing. Therefore your parents 
 could not rejoice at your birth, and we only pardoned you 
 when you married a rich man, who could free us from want, 
 and now the separation is no grief to us. You have always 
 been a disagreeable burden, and I am only quit of a discom- 
 fort, and renounce forever the sight of you. — Give me your 
 arm, my son, and accompany me at least to the threshold of 
 your house, that you may be able to *ay to this cold-hearted 
 viper, that she is forever rid of the sight of her mother, who 
 will never think of her but with chilling contempt." She- 
 seized Ebenstreit by the arm, who had not the courage to re- 
 sist her, and drew him along with her, casting a look of 
 supreme disgust at old Trude, who stood pale and sad near 
 the door. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV 
 
 BEHIND THE MASK. 
 
 As the door closed, and Marie found herself alone with hei- 
 old friend and nurse, a peculiar change was visible in her sad 
 face ; something of its former sunny radiance brightened its 
 
BEHIND THE MASK. 35? 
 
 usually sorrowful expression, and she turned to greet Trade 
 with the smile of earlier, happier days, though it was tingert 
 with sadness and grief. Impulsively she threw her arms 
 around her faithful nurse, kissing her, and, with quivering 
 lip, whispering: "A greeting and a blessing for you, dear 
 mother ! Take me to your kind, disinterested heart, and let 
 me there find repose from all this torture, and love the poor 
 lost one, who — " 
 
 She drew suddenly back, her face assuming its usually cold,, 
 callous look as she heard her husband enter. 
 
 " She is gone, dear Marie. I hope that you are gratified 
 with my decision, and perceive therein a proof of my exces- 
 sive love and esteem for you," said Ebenstreit, drawing a long 
 breath. 
 
 " I did not desire this polite evidence of it," she coldly re- 
 sponded. " We have solemnized our entrance into this house 
 in a fitting manner, and the important matter remaining for 
 us is to make known our arrival to the society of Berlin. The 
 horses purchased in Alexandria, and the new carriage from 
 London, have already arrived — have they not?" 
 
 " My book-keeper so informed me a fortnight since, when 
 we were in Paris, and complained of the enormous sum which 
 he had to disburse." 
 
 "You must forbid him such a liberty once for all," said 
 she, and the strange blending of joy and scorn was visible in 
 her face. " It is inadmissible for a subordinate to presume to 
 complain to his master, or advise him. He has only to listen 
 and obey. This all your inferiors must understand, and know 
 that they will be dismissed who murmur or advise!" 
 
 "I will instruct them accordingly," he sighed, "though I 
 must confess my head-man well understands financial opera- 
 tions, and during the many years that he has been with me 
 has won the right to be consulted and advised with." 
 
 " Then prove your gratitude as it becomes a true cavalier 
 and a nobleman," dictated Marie. "Settle his salary as an 
 annuity upon him, and replace him." 
 
353 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 " But he receives very great wages, and is still very active, 
 though advanced." 
 
 " The more the reason to pension him, that he may repose 
 his remaining years and enjoy the fruit of his labors. But 
 do as you like. I have only told you how a noble cavalier would 
 act ; if you choose to bargain and haggle, it is your own affair. " 
 
 " Heaven keep me from acting otherwise than as a noble- 
 man !" cried Ebenstreit. 
 
 Marie nodded assent, desiring that the carriage might be 
 ordered, with the Arab horses. " We will make our visits at 
 once, as I will, for the first time, open our large house for a 
 soiree to-morrow evening," she added. 
 
 "Ah, that is charming!" said Ebenstreit, delighted. "I 
 shall at last have the opportunity of seeing the aristocratic 
 Berlin society, and enter upon the rank of my new title." 
 
 "Yes," she replied, with an expression of irrepressible 
 scorn, " you will have this enjoyment. Send me the steward, 
 I wish to give him a list of the invited guests. You can add 
 to it at your pleasure." 
 
 "I have no one to invite," cried her husband. 
 
 " No matter ! Make the necessary preparations. I will go 
 to my room to make my toilet." 
 
 "Will you not allow me to accompany you? You are not 
 yet familiar with the house. " 
 
 " Trude will show it to me, and you can at the same time 
 give the orders." 
 
 Nodding proudly to Ebenstreit, she told Trude to precede 
 her, following the old woman through the suite of brilliant 
 rooms. 
 
 "Here is my lady's dressing-room," said Trude, entering 
 one ornamented with mirrors, laces, and gauzes. 
 
 The French waiting-maid was busy within, unpacking the 
 large trunks filled with silk and satin dresses which had been 
 purchased by the dozens in Paris. 
 
 " Lay out an elegant visiting toilet; I will return directly, 
 after Trude has shown me the house." 
 
BEHIND THE MASK. 359 
 
 They entered the adjoining chamber, Marie's sleeping- 
 room, and found the German maid arranging the lace and 
 silk coverings for her mistress to repose herself after the long 
 journey. Marie betrayed no inclination for repose, but ques- 
 tioned Trude as to whither the other door led to. 
 
 " Into the little corridor, baroness. " 
 
 " Did I not order that there should be but one entrance to 
 my sleeping-room, and that from the dressing-room?" 
 
 " Your commands have been strictly obeyed," replied Trude. 
 * The only door from the corridor leads to my two rooms, and 
 there is but one entrance to them upon the other side, which 
 can be securely fastened." 
 
 Into the simple, quiet room, at the baroness's request, 
 Trude opened the door, saying, "Here we can be alone." 
 
 Marie pointed silently to the second door, and the old 
 woman nodded : " That is it," said she. " I have done every 
 thing as you directed. After you left, they sent me the fur- 
 niture of your little garret-room, which I have arranged 
 exactly as it stood there." 
 
 As Marie opened the door and found herself in the small 
 room, so like the one where she had made flowers, given les- 
 sons, consoled by her only friend, Trude, her pride and 
 reserve vanished. Sinking upon her knees, as if crushed, she 
 gave way to her long-pent-up grief in one cry of anguish, 
 clinging to Trude, and weeping bitterly. 
 
 "Here I am, my faithful nurse, returned to you more 
 wretched and miserable than when I left : then, I felt that I 
 could scorn the world, and now I despise myself. Oh, Trude, 
 they have caused my wretchedness, they have made me selfish 
 and unkind. I was contented until now, and rejoiced in 
 my misery, and triumphantly thought of the time when I was 
 wont to bewail my broken heart and lost soul. Once more 
 with you, and surrounded with the souvenirs of my girlhood, 
 I feel a horror of myself, and could sink in shame and con- 
 trition. I have become as bad as they are. Can you forgive 
 the hard-hearted daughter who banished her own mother 
 
360 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 from her house? I felt that I could not endure her presence, 
 and feared that an inveterate rancor and hate would over- 
 power me, and that I should curse her." 
 
 "She deserves it, my poor child," whispered Trude, the 
 tears streaming down her cheeks. " She has just told you 
 that she never loved you, and in this painful scene she 
 thought only of bargaining and making money. God has 
 heard her and forgiven you as I do, and I beg and implore 
 Him to punish those who have made you so wretched, and 
 that He will have no mercy upon them, as they have shown 
 none to you. It breaks my heart to see you so changed, and 
 I can hardly believe this cold, haughty lady is my Marie. In 
 your tears I recognize you, and I bless God that you can 
 weep ; your grief proves to me that you are yet the child of 
 my heart." 
 
 " Oh Trude, you know not how I have longed to see you ; 
 it was my only consolation in these painful years. When I 
 doubted every human being, then I thought of you, and was 
 comforted and sustained." 
 
 " And was there no one else to think of, my child?" 
 
 " Yes," she gently murmured, " I thought of him. Tell me 
 all you know about him, and hide nothing from me in this 
 hour." 
 
 "I thought you would ask me, and I went to Director 
 Gedicke yesterday, to inform myself. " 
 
 "What did you hear? Tell me the most important. Does 
 he live? Is he restored to health?" 
 
 " He lives, but, for one year, he was so wretched that he 
 could not teach; now he is better. Herr Gedicke went him- 
 self to Spandau, immediately after the wedding, and brought 
 him back with him, relating as forbearingly and carefully as 
 possible the circumstances of your marriage, and of your sac- 
 rificing yourself for him alone." 
 
 "How did he receive it? What did he say?" 
 
 "Nothing. His eyes were fixed, and his lips uttered not a 
 sound. This lasted for weeks, and suddenly he became ex- 
 
BEHIND THE MASK. 361 
 
 cited, enraged, and they were obliged to bind him to keep 
 him from injuring himself." 
 
 " Tell me no more," cried Marie, shuddering. " I thought 
 myself stronger, nay, heartless, and yet it seems as if a hand 
 of iron were tearing, rending my soul!" 
 
 "That is well," said Trude, gently; "you must awaken 
 from this hardened indifference ; giving way to your grief in 
 tears will soften your heart, and it will again be penetrated 
 with the love of God and mankind. I will tell you every 
 thing ; you ought to know how poor, dear Moritz suffered. 
 After he vented his rage he became melancholy, and withdrew 
 to Halle in solitude, living in a hay-loft. His favorite books 
 and an old piano were his only companions; no one presumed 
 to intrude upon him, and they even conveyed his food secretly 
 to him, shoving it through a door. He talked aloud to him- 
 self for hours long, and at night sang so touchingly, accom- 
 panying himself upon the piano, that those who listened 
 wept. " 
 
 Marie wept also — scalding tears trickled through her fingers 
 as she lay upon the floor. 
 
 Trude continued: "Moritz lived in this way one year; 
 his friends knew how he was suffering, and they proved in 
 their deeds how much they loved and esteemed him. The 
 teachers at the Gymnasium divided his hours of instruction 
 among them, that he should not forfeit his place and lose his 
 salary. Even the king showed great sympathy for him, send- 
 ing to inquire for him. Herr Gedicke visited him frequently 
 at Halle ; and once when about to mount the ladder to the 
 hay-loft he met Moritz descending, carefully dressed, in a 
 reasonable, gentle mood, and then he returned with him to 
 Berlin. There was great rejoicing in the college over his re- 
 turn, and they f6ted him, witnessing so much love for him 
 that it was really touching. He has been promoted to profes- 
 sor, and at the express command of the king he teaches the 
 young Prince Frederick William in Latin and Greek. Oh, 
 he is so much esteemed and — " 
 24 
 
362 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 "And is married I hope," murmured Marie. "Is he not 
 happily married, Trade?" 
 
 " No. Herr Gedicke says he could marry a wealthy girl, for 
 he is a great favorite, and is invited into the most distinguished 
 society. He repels every one, and has become a woman-hater. " 
 
 "He hates them — does that mean that he hates me?" 
 
 " Yes, he thoroughly scorns and despises you ; so much so 
 that Herr Gedicke says you should know of it, and keep out 
 of his way. He has sworn to publicly show his contempt for 
 you, and therefore his friends wish you to be apprised of it, 
 and not encounter him in society." 
 
 "It is well, I thank you," said Marie, rising; "I will act 
 accordingly. Kiss me once more, my dear mother, and let 
 me repose my weary head upon your bosom. Ah, Trude, 
 what a sorrow life is!" 
 
 " You will yet learn to love it again, Marie." 
 
 "If I thought that I could sink so low, I would kill myself 
 this very hour. I know myself better, and only for revenge 
 do I live. Hush ! say nothing more. Look at me ! I am 
 cursed, and there in those gaudy rooms in my purgatory; 
 here is my paradise, and here the wicked demon may dare to 
 change into the sad, wretched wife, who mourns the happy 
 days already flown, and weeps the inconsolable future. Oft 
 will I come here in the night when those sleep who think me 
 so proud and happy, and you alone shall behold me as I am. 
 Now I must back to purgatory. — Farewell!" 
 
 A half hour later a splendid carriage drove from the house 
 of Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthen. The people upon the street 
 stood in wondering admiration of the beautiful Arab horses 
 with the costly silver-mounted harness, and sought to catch 
 a glimpse of the occupants of the carriage, an insignificant, 
 meagre, blond-haired man, who appeared like a servant be- 
 side the lovely pale wife, though proud and indifferent, who 
 kept her eyes fixed steadily before her. 
 
 The chasseur, with his waving plumes, sat upon the box 
 beside the rich-liveried coachman. 
 
THE CURSE. 363 
 
 As the married couple returned from their drive, having 
 left their cards at the most distinguished houses in Berlin, 
 the baroness handed the list of guests to be invited to the 
 baron to examine. He glanced hastily over it, assuring her 
 that every thing should be directed as she desired, deferring 
 all to her superior knowledge. Suddenly he seemed confused, 
 even frightened. "What is the matter? What were you 
 about to remark?" asked Marie, indifferently. 
 
 " I was in error. I have, without doubt, read it wrong. I 
 beg pardon for a foolish blunder, but will you tell me this 
 name?" 
 
 Marie bent forward to look at the paper which her husband 
 handed her, and, pointing with her finger, read " Professor 
 Philip Moritz." 
 
 "Do you intend to invite him?" asked Ebenstreit, quite 
 alarmed. 
 
 "Why should I not? He belongs to the circle of friends 
 and acquaintances, and it is natural that I should include 
 him. Moreover, there is not a little gossip, and it is neces- 
 sary to silence it. If you are not of my opinion, strike out 
 the name." 
 
 " Not at all, dearest. On the contrary, you are perfectly 
 right, and I admire you for it." 
 
 " Then give the list to the butler, for it is quite time that 
 the invitations were given out." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 THE CURSE. 
 
 The evening of the soiree had arrived. In quick succession 
 drove the carriages up the broad entrance to the mansion of 
 Herr Ebenstreit. The curious street public pressed in com- 
 pact masses near the gate to peep in, or at least catch a fugi- 
 tive glance of the ladies alighting from their carriages, who 
 were received by the butler at the foot of the carpeted steps. 
 
364 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 A host of gold-bespangled footmen lined the entrance upon 
 each side, which was ornamented with the most exquisite hot- 
 house plants, filling the air with perfume. 
 
 Two tall, stately footmen, with broad gold shoulder-bands 
 and large gilt batons, stood at the door of the anteroom, 
 which was brilliantly illuminated with chandeliers and side- 
 lights, reflected in the numerous mirorrs. The anteroom led 
 into the reception-room by wide folding-doors, where the 
 names were given to the usher, who announced them in a 
 stentorian voice in the drawing-room. There stood the Baron 
 von Ebenstreit to receive the guests, all smiles, and with bus- 
 tling assiduity accompany them to the adjoining drawing-room 
 to present them to the baroness. 
 
 Among the select company were conspicuous the most dis- 
 tinguished names of the aristocracy. Generals and staff- 
 officers, countesses and baronesses were crowded together, 
 with the ladies of the financial world, near ministers and 
 counsellors in this gorgeous saloon, which was the delight and 
 admiration of the envious, and excited the tongues of the 
 slanderous. Those acquainted gathered in the window-niches 
 and cosy corners, maliciously criticising the motley crowd, 
 and eminently consoled with the sure prospect of the ruin of 
 the late banker, surrounding himself with such unbecoming 
 splendor and luxury, the bad taste of his arrogant, over- 
 dressed, and extravagant wife. 
 
 " Have you noticed her parure of diamonds?" whispered 
 the Countess Moltke to Frau von Morien. " If they are real, 
 then she wears an estate upon her shoulders." 
 
 "The family estate of Von Leuthen," laughingly replied 
 Frau von Morien. " You know, I suppose, that the father of 
 General von Leuthen was a brick-burner, and he may have 
 succeeded in changing a few bricks into diamonds." 
 
 "You are wicked, sweet one," replied the countess, smil- 
 ing. " One must acknowledge that her toilet is charming. 
 I have never seen its equal. The gold lace over the rose- 
 colored satin is superb." 
 
THE CURSE. 365 
 
 " Yes, and the mingling of straw feathers, diamonds, flow- 
 ers, lace, and birds is truly ridiculous in her head-dress." 
 
 " It must have been copied exactly from the one which the 
 Queen Marie Antoinette wore at the ball at Versailles a fort- 
 night since. The baroness was present at this court ball with 
 her greyhound of a husband, and created quite a sensation 
 with her costly recherchee toilet, as the French ambassador 
 told us yesterday." 
 
 "Certainly not by her manner," said Frau von Morien. 
 
 * She is insupportably arrogant and self-sufficient. What do 
 you think of this pretentious manner of announcing our 
 names, as if we were at an auction where they sold titles?" 
 
 " It is a very good French custom," remarked the countess. 
 
 * But it does not become a lady of doubtful nobility and un- 
 certain position, to introduce foreign customs here. She 
 should leave this to others, and modestly accept those already 
 in use by us." 
 
 "One remarks the puffed-up par venue," whispered Frau 
 von Morien. " Every thing smells of the varnish upon the 
 newly-painted coat-of -arms. " 
 
 " Hush, my friend ! there comes the baroness leaning upon 
 the arm of the French ambassador. She is indeed imposing 
 in appearance, and one could mistake her for a queen." 
 
 " Could any one ever suppose that this queen once made 
 flowers to sell? Come, countess, I have just thought of a 
 charming scene to revenge myself upon this arrogant person- 
 age." 
 
 Giving her arm to the countess, she approached her hostess 
 leaning upon the arm of the Marquis de Treves, the French 
 ambassador, as they were standing beneath the immense chan- 
 delier of rock crystal, which sparkled above them like a crown 
 of stars, causing her diamonds to look as if in one blaze of differ- 
 ent hues. 
 
 "Oh, permit us to sun ourselves in your rays, ma toute 
 belle" said the Countess Moltke. "One could well fancy 
 themselves in a fairy palace, so enchanting is every thing here. " 
 
366 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 " And the baroness's appearance confirms this impression," 1 
 remarked the gallant Frenchman. "Fancy could not well 
 paint a more lovely fairy in one's happiest dreams." 
 
 " Yes, truly I wander around as if in an enchanted scene. 
 
 f I feel as if I must seize myself by the head and be well shaken, 
 
 to convince myself that I am really awake and not dreaming 
 
 a chapter from Aladdin. I made the effort, but felt the 
 
 wreath of roses in my hair, and — " 
 
 "And that convinced you of your wakefulness," said the 
 baroness, a little haughtily. Turning to the ambassador, she 
 added : " Do you observe, monsieur le marquis, what a delicate 
 attention this lady shows me in wearing a wreath of flowers 
 which I manufactured?" 
 
 " Comment ! The baroness is truly a fairy ! She causes 
 flowers to grow at her pleasure, and vies with Nature. It 
 seems impossible. I can scarcely believe it." 
 
 " And yet it is true," said Frau von Morien. " The baron- 
 ess, indeed, fabricated these roses three years since, when she 
 had the kindness to work for me. You will acknowledge that 
 I have kept them well?" 
 
 "It was no kindness of mine, but a necessity," said the 
 baroness, " and I must confess that I would not have under- 
 taken so troublesome a piece of work from pure goodness or 
 pleasure. You will remember that I was very poor before my 
 marriage, and as Frau von Morien was one of my customers, 
 it is very natural that she possesses my flowers. She gave me 
 many orders, and paid me a very small price, for she is very 
 practical and prudent, and understands bargaining and 
 cheapening, and when one is poor they are obliged to yield to 
 the shameless parsimony of the rich. I thank you, my dear 
 benefactress, for the honor you have shown me in wearing my 
 flowers, for it has been a pleasant occasion to explain ourselves 
 and recognize each other. Have the kindness to recall other 
 remembrances of the past. " 
 
 "I do not remember possessing any other souvenirs," re- 
 plied the countess, confused. 
 
THE CURSE. 367 
 
 " Have you forgotten that I gave French lessons to your 
 niece, the present Frau von Hohenthal? She came to me 
 three times weekly, because the lessons were a few groschen 
 cheaper at the house." 
 
 At this instant the usher announced in a loud voice, " Pro- 
 fessor Philip Moritz." 
 
 A gentleman of slight proportions, in an elegant fashion- 
 able dress, appeared and remained standing in the doorway, 
 his large black eyes wandering searchingly through the draw- 
 ing-room. Herr von Ebenstreit approached, extending him 
 his hand, uttering a few unintelligible words, which his guest 
 appeared not to notice, but, slightly inclining, asked if he 
 would present him to the lady of the house. 
 
 "Have the kindness to follow me," said Ebenstreit, leading- 
 Moritz through the circle of jesting, slandering ladies and 
 gentlemen, to the centre of the room, where Marie was still 
 standing with the French ambassador and the two ladies. 
 
 " My dear," said her husband, " I have brought you an old 
 acquaintance, Professor Moritz." 
 
 As Ebenstreit would retreat, Moritz commanded him to re- 
 main, placing his white-gloved hand upon his arm, and hold- 
 ing him fast. " I would ask you one question before I speak 
 with the baroness." 
 
 Moritz spoke so loud, and in such a strange, harsh, and 
 repulsive manner, that every one turned astonished, asking 
 himself what it meant. Conversation was hushed, and the 
 curious pressed toward the peculiar group in the centre — to 
 the baroness, who regarded her husband perfectly composed, 
 and the pale man, with the flashing eyes, the glance of which 
 pierced her like daggers. 
 
 A breathless silence reigned, broken only by Eebnstreit's 
 trembling voice. "What is it, professor? How can I serve 
 you?" 
 
 " Tell me who you are?" replied Moritz, with a gruff laugh. 
 
 "I am the Baron Ebenstreit von Leuthen!" 
 
 " And the scar which you bear upon your face, is it not the 
 
368 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 mark of a whip, with which I lashed a certain Herr Eben- 
 streit three years since, who prevented my eloping with my 
 betrothed ? I challenged him to fight a duel, but the coward re- 
 fused me satisfaction, and then I struck him in the face, caus- 
 ing the blood to flow. Answer me — are you this gentleman?" 
 
 Not a sound interrupted the fearfully long pause which 
 followed. Every one turned astonished to Ebenstreit, who, 
 pale as death, was powerless to utter a word, but stood staring 
 at his opponent. 
 
 "Why do you not answer me?" cried Moritz, stamping his 
 foot. "Are you the coward? Was this red scar caused by 
 the whip-lash?" 
 
 Another long pause ensued, and a distinctly audible voice 
 was heard, saying, "Yes, it is he!" 
 
 "Who replied to me?" asked Moritz, turning his angry 
 glance away from Ebenstreit. 
 
 "I," said Marie. " I reply for my husband!" 
 
 " You? Are you the wife of this man?" thundered Moritz. 
 
 "I am," Marie answered. 
 
 "Is this invitation directed to me from you?" he con- 
 tinued, drawing a paper from his pocket. " Did you permit 
 yourself to invite me to your house?" 
 
 "Yes, I did," she calmly answered. 
 
 "And by what right, madame? This is the question I 
 wish answered, and I came here for that purpose. " 
 
 " I invited you because I desired to see you. n 
 
 "Shameless one!" cried Moritz, furious. 
 
 " Sir," cried the ambassador, placing himself before Moritz, 
 defying his anger, "you forget that you are speaking to a 
 lady. As her husband is silent, I declare myself her knight, 
 and I will not suffer her to be injured by word or look.* 
 
 "How can you hinder me?" cried Moritz, with scorn. 
 " What will you do if I dash this paper at her feet, and forbid 
 her to ever write my name again?" Making a ball of it, he 
 suited the action to the word, casting a defiant look at tho 
 marquis. 
 
THE CURSE. 369 
 
 " I shall order the footmen to thrust yon out of the house. — 
 Here, servants, remove this man; he is an escaped lunatic, 
 undoubtedly." 
 
 Two footmen pressed forward through the circle which 
 crowded around Moritz. 
 
 "Whoever touches me, death to him!" thundered Moritz, 
 laying his hand upon a small sword at his side. 
 
 " Let no one dare lay a hand on this gentleman," cried Marie, 
 with a commanding wave of her hand to the lackeys. " I be- 
 seech you, marquis, and you, honored guests, to quietly await 
 the conclusion of this scene, and to permit Herr Moritz to 
 finish speaking." 
 
 "Do you mean to defy me, madame?" muttered Moritz, 
 gnashing his teeth. " You perhaps count upon my magna- 
 nimity to keep silent, and not disclose the secrets of the past 
 to this aristocratic assembly. I stand here as its accusing 
 spirit, and condemn you as a shameless perjurer. — I will ask 
 you who are here rendering homage to this woman, if you 
 know who she is, and of what she has been guilty? As a 
 young girl she was as sweet and innocent as an angel, and 
 seemed more like a divine revelation. To think of her, in- 
 spired and elevated one's thoughts, and heaven was mirrored 
 in her eyes. She was poor, and yet so infinitely rich, that if a 
 king had laid all his treasures at her feet, as the gift of his love, 
 he would receive more than he gave, for in her heart reposed 
 the wealth of the whole human race. Oh ! I could weep tears 
 of blood in reflecting upon what she was, and what she has 
 become. Smile and mock, ladies and gentlemen ; my brain 
 is crazed, and I weep for my lost angel." 
 
 Moritz dashed his hands to his face, and stood swaying 
 backward and forward, sobbing. 
 
 Sighs and regrets were heard in the room. The ladies 
 pressed their handkerchiefs to their eyes; others regarded 
 with lively sympathy the handsome young man, who deeply 
 interested them, and gazed reproachfully at the young baron- 
 ess, expecting her to be crushed with these reproaches and 
 
370 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 tears, but who, on the contrary, stood with proud composure, 
 her face beaming with joy, gazing at Moritz. 
 
 " It is past — my last tear is shed, and my last wail has been 
 uttered," cried Philip, uncovering his face. "My angel has 
 changed into a despicable woman. I loved her as the 
 wretched, disconsolate being adores the one who reveals para- 
 dise to him ; and she fooled me into the belief that she loved 
 me. We exchanged vows of eternal constancy and affection, 
 and promised each other to bear joyfully every ill in life, and 
 never separate until death. I should have doubted myself, 
 rather than she who stood above me, like a divine revelation. 
 I wished to win her by toil and industry, by my intellect, and 
 the fame by which I could render my name illustrious. It 
 was, indeed, nothing in the eyes of her grasping parents; 
 they repulsed me with scorn and pride, but Marie encouraged 
 me to perfect confidence in her affection. "Whilst I wandered 
 on foot to Silesia, like a poor pilgrim toward happiness, to 
 humble myself before the king, to beg and combat for my 
 angel, there came temptation, sin, and vulgarity, in the form 
 of this pale, cowed-down man, who stands beside my betrothed 
 gasping with rage. The temptation of riches changed my 
 angel into a demon, a miserable, woman bartered for gold! 
 She betrayed her love, yielding it up for filthy lucre, crushing 
 her nobler nature in the dust, and driving over it, as did 
 Tullia the dead body of her father. She sold herself for 
 riches, before which you all kneel, as if worshipping the golden 
 calf! After selling her soul to a man whom she despised, 
 even if he were not rich, she has had the boldness to summon 
 me, the down-trodden and half -crazed victim, to her gilded 
 palace, as if I were a slave to be attached to her triumphal 
 car. I am a free man, and have come here only to hurl con- 
 tempt in her face, to brand her before you all as a perjurer 
 and a traitress, whom I never will pardon, but will curse with 
 my latest breath ! Now I have relieved my heart of its bur- 
 den, I command this woman to deny what I have said, if sh& 
 can." 
 
THE CURSE. 371 
 
 With a dictatorial wave of the hand, he pointed excitedly 
 to Marie. A deathlike stillness reigned. Even the lights 
 seemed to grow dim, and every one was oppressed as if by ex- 
 cessive sultriness. 
 
 Again Moritz commanded Marie to acknowledge the truth 
 of his accusations before the honored assembly. 
 
 She encountered his angry glance with calmness, and a 
 smile was perceptible upon her lip. " Yes," said she, " I ac- 
 knowledge that I am a perjurer and a traitor. I have sold 
 myself for riches, and yielded my peace of soul and my love 
 for mammon. I might justify myself, but I refrain from it, 
 and will only say that you have told the truth ! One day you 
 will cease to curse me, and perhaps a tear of pity will glisten 
 in the eye now flashing with scorn and anger. The poor wife 
 who lies in the dust implores for the last blessing of your love !" 
 
 "Marie!" he cried, with heart-rending anguish, "oh, 
 Marie!" and rushed toward her, kneeling before her, and 
 clinging to her, pressing a kiss upon her hand and weeping 
 aloud. Only for a moment did he give way, and then sprang 
 up wildly, rushing through the crowd, out of the room. 
 
 A fearful silence ensued. No one had the courage to break 
 it. Every one hoped that Marie, through a simulated faint- 
 ing, would end the painful scene, and give the guests an 
 opportunity to withdraw. No such thoughtfulness for her 
 friends occurred to her, 
 
 She turned to the Marquis de Treves, who stood pale and 
 deeply agitated behind her, and burst into a loud laugh. 
 
 "How pale you are! Have you taken this comedy for 
 truth? Did you think this theatrical performance was a 
 reality? You have forgotten what I told you a month since 
 in Paris, that I had a native talent for acting. You would 
 contest the matter with me, and I bet you that I could intro- 
 duce an impromptu scene in my house, with such artistic 
 skill, that you would be quite deceived." 
 
 "Indeed I do recall it; how could I have forgotten it?" re- 
 plied the marquis, with the ready tact of the diplomat. 
 
372 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA 
 
 "Have I won?" asked Marie, smiling. 
 
 "You have played your role, baroness, like an artiste of 
 consummate talent, and to-morrow I shall have the honor to 
 cancel the debt in your favor." 
 
 " Now, then, give me your arm, marquis, and conduct me 
 to the dancing-room, and you, worthy guests, follow us," said 
 Marie, leading the way. 
 
 The merry music even was not sufficient to dissipate tin 
 awkward oppression, and by midnight the guests had taken 
 leave, and Marie stood under the chandelier, pale and rigid, 
 opposite her husband. He had summoned courage to bewail 
 the terrible scene, weeping and mourning over her cruelty and 
 his shame. Marie, with chilling indifference, regarded him 
 without one visible trace of pity. 
 
 " You realized what you were doing when you imposed the 
 scorn of this marriage upon me," she said. "I have never 
 deceived you with vain hopes! You have sown dragons 7 
 teeth, and warriors have sprung up to revenge me upon you. 
 Serve yourself of your riches to fight the combatants. See if 
 you can bargain for a quiet conscience as easily as you pur- 
 chased me ! My soul is free though, and it hovers over you 
 as the spirit of revenge. — Beware!" 
 
 She slowly turned and quitted the room. Her diamonds 
 sparkled and blazed in the myriads of lights. The large mir- 
 rors reflected the image of a haughty woman, who swept 
 proudly past like a goddess of revenge ! 
 
 Ebenstreit stood gazing after her. He had a horror of the 
 lonely still room, so gorgeous and brilliantly illuminated — a 
 shudder crept over him, and he sank, weeping bitterly. 
 
 In the little room, the buried happiness of the past, Maria 
 knelt, with outstretched arms, imploring heaven for mercy. 
 " I thank Thee, Heavenly Father, that I have been permitted 
 to see him again ! My sacrifice was not in vain — he lives! 
 He is free, and his mind is clear and bright. I thank Thee 
 that he still loves me. His anger is but love!" 
 
THE KING AND THE ROSICRUCIANS. 373 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 THE KING AND THE ROSICRUCIANS. 
 
 The joy which Bischofswerder said, reigned in heaven and 
 npon earth over the return of the crown prince to the path of 
 virtue, in having forsaken Wilhelmine Enke, was of but 
 short duration. 
 
 The Invisibles and the pious Rosicrucians soon learned that 
 a sagacious and cunning woman defied the spirits and abjured 
 the oaths. 
 
 Since the night of his communion with the departed, Fred- 
 erick William had never visited Charlottenburg — never seen 
 the house which contained all that he held most dear ; he had 
 returned Wilhelmine's letters unopened, and had even had 
 the courage to refuse himself to the children, who came to see 
 him. 
 
 If he had been left to consult his own heart, he would not 
 probably have had sufficient resolution to have done this*, 
 Bischofswerder and Wollner never left him for a moment, as 
 they said the Invisible Fathers had commanded them to tarry 
 with the much-loved brother in these first days of trial and 
 temptation, and to elevate and gladden him with edifying 
 conversations and scientific investigations. 
 
 The prayers and exhortations were the duty of Wollner, 
 who, besides this, continued his daily discourses upon the 
 administration of government, preparing the prince for the 
 important command of the royal regiments, which they hoped 
 favorable destiny would soon grant him. 
 
 The scientific researches were the part of Bischofswerder, 
 and he entered upon his duties with the zeal and pleasure of 
 an inquiring mind, itself hopeful and believing. 
 
 In the cabinet arranged in the new palace at Potsdam, the 
 prince and his dear Bischofswerder worked daily, many 
 hours, to discover the great hope of the alchemist — the philos- 
 
374 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 opher's stone. Not finding it, unfortunately, they brewed all 
 sorts of miraculous drinks, which were welcome to the prince 
 as the elixir of eternal youth and constant love. In the even- 
 ings they communed with the spirits of the distinguished 
 departed, which, moved at the earnest prayers of Wollner, and 
 the fervent exhortation of the crown prince, always had the 
 goodness to appear, and witness their satisfaction for their 
 much-loved son, as they called him, for continuing brave and 
 faHiif ul,and not falling into the unholy snares of the seductress. 
 
 The crown prince, however, experienced not the least self- 
 contentment. Each day renewed the yearning for the beloved 
 of his youth and for his children, for which those of his wife 
 were no compensation — neither the silent, awkward Prince 
 Frederick William, nor his crying little brother. In his 
 dreams he saw Wilhelmine dissolved in tears, calling upon 
 him in most tender accents, and when he awoke, it was to an 
 inconsolable grief. He wept with heart-felt sorrow ; his oath 
 alone kept him from hastening to her; it bound him, and 
 fettered his earnest wish to see her, making him sad and 
 melancholy. 
 
 The spirits had no pity nor mercy upon him. His two 
 confidants encouraged his virtue and piety from morning till 
 night, exalting his excited fancy with their marvellous rela- 
 tions and apparitions. 
 
 One day as they were on the point of commencing the 
 morning prayers to the Invisibles, a royal footman appeared, 
 with the command to betake themselves to Sans-Souci, where 
 the king awaited them. 
 
 A royal carriage was in attendance to convey them. There 
 was no alternative but obedience. 
 
 " Perhaps Pate destines us to become martyrs to the holy 
 cause," said Wollner, devoutly folding his hands. 
 
 "We may never enjoy the happiness of seeing our dear 
 brothers of the confederacy again," sighed Bischofswerder. 
 "Our spirits will always be with you, my prince, and the In- 
 visible Fathers will protect you in all your ways." 
 
THE KING AND THE ROSICRUCIANS. 375 
 
 The crown prince, deeply moved, separated from his friends 
 with tears in his eyes; but as the carriage rolled away he felt 
 relieved as of an oppressive burden, and breathed more freely. 
 
 At the same time a footman entered, bearing upon a golden 
 salver a letter for the prince. Unobserved and free to act, he 
 read it, and as he sat musingly thinking over its contents, so 
 tender and affectionate, he re-read it, and rising, made a bold 
 resolve, his face beaming with happiness, to order his carriage, 
 which he did, and in a few moments more drove at full speed 
 away from the palace. 
 
 Bischofswerder and Wollner, in the mean time, arrived at 
 Sans- Sou ci. The footman awaiting them conducted them at 
 once through the picture-gallery, into the little corridor lead- 
 ing to the king's cabinet, and there left them to announce 
 them to his majesty. Both gentlemen heard their names 
 called in a loud voice, and the response of the king : " Let 
 them wait in the little corridor until I permit them to enter. " 
 
 The footman returned and with subdued voice made known 
 the royal command, and departed, carefully closing the door. 
 
 There was no seat in the narrow, little corridor, and the air 
 was close and oppressive. 
 
 They could hear voices in mingled conversation ; sometimes 
 it seemed as if the king were communicating commands; 
 again, as if he dictated in a suppressed voice. The Rosicru- 
 cians knew very well it was the hour of the cabinet council, 
 and they waited patiently and steadfastly, but as their watches 
 revealed the fact that three hours had passed, and every noise 
 was hushed, they concluded they were forgotten, and resolved 
 to remind the lackey of their presence. 
 
 "Indeed, this standing is quite insupportable," whispered 
 Wollner. 
 
 They both slipped to the entrance and tried the bronze 
 knob, but although it turned, the door opened not, and was 
 evidently fastened upon the outside. They looked alarmed 
 at each other, asking what it could mean. " Can it be in- 
 tentional? Are we imprisoned here? We must be resigned, 
 
376 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 although it is a severe experience." At last, patience ex- 
 hausted, they resolved to bear it no longer, and tapped gently 
 at the door of the king. The loud bark of a dog was their 
 only response, and again all was still. 
 
 "Evidently there is no one there," sighed Bischofswerder. 
 " It is the hour of dining of the king." 
 
 "I wish it were ours also," whined Wollner. "I confess 
 I yearn for bodily nourishment, and my legs sink under 
 me." 
 
 , "I am fearfully hungry," groaned Bischofswerder; "be- 
 sides, the air is suffocating. I am resolved to go to extremes, 
 and make a noise." 
 
 He rushed like a caged boar from one door to the other, 
 shrieking for the lackey to open the door ; but as before, a 
 loud bark was the only response. 
 
 "The Lord has forsaken us," whimpered Wollner. "The 
 sublime Fathers have turned their faces away from us. We 
 will pray for mercy and beg for a release!" and he sank upon 
 his knees. 
 
 " What will that avail us here, where neither prayers nor 
 devotion are heeded? Only energy and determination will aid 
 us at Sans-Souci. Come, let us thump and bang until they 
 set us free!" cried Bischofswerder, peevishly. 
 
 Their hands were lame, and their voices hoarse with their 
 exertions; and no longer able to stand, they sank down upon 
 the floor hungry and exhausted, almost weeping with rage and 
 despair. 
 
 At last, after long hours of misery, they heard a noise in 
 the adjoining room. The king had again entered his cab- 
 inet. The door opened, and the lackey motioned to the two 
 gentlemen to enter. They rose with difficulty and staggered 
 into the room, the door being closed behind them. 
 
 His majesty was seated in his arm-chair, with his three- 
 cornered hat on, leaning his chin upon his hands, crossed 
 upon his staff. He fixed his great blue eyes, with a searching 
 glance, upon the two Kosicrucians; then turned to his minis- 
 
THE KING AND THE ROSICRUCIANS. 377 
 
 ter, Herzberg, who was seated at the table covered with 
 documents. 
 
 " These are, then, the two great props of the Kosi crucians ?" 
 asked Frederick — " the two charlatans whom they have told 
 me make hell hot for the crown prince, continually lighting 
 it up with their prayers and litanies." 
 
 "Your majesty," answered Herzberg, smiling, "these gen- 
 tlemen are Colonel Bischofswerder and the councillor of the 
 exchequer, Wollner, whom your majesty has commanded to 
 appear before you." 
 
 " You are the two gentlemen who work miracles, and have 
 the effrontery to summon the spirit of our ancestor, the great 
 elector, and the Emperor Marcus Aurelius?" 
 
 " Sire," stammered Bischofswerder, "we have tried to sum- 
 mon spirits. " 
 
 "And I too," cried the king, "only they will not come; 
 therefore I wished to see the enchanters, and would like to 
 purchase the secret." 
 
 "Pardon me, most gracious sire," said Wollner, humbly, 
 " you must first be received in the holy order of the Rosicru- 
 cians." 
 
 "Thanks," cried the king, "I am not ready for the like 
 follies, and whilst I live the Invisibles must take heed not to 
 become too visible, or they will be taken care of. I will not 
 permit Prussia to retrograde. It has cost too much trouble to 
 enlighten the people, bring them to reason, and banish hypoc- 
 risy. Say to the Rosicrucians that they shall leave the crown 
 prince in peace, or I will chase them to the devil, who will 
 receive them with open arms ! It could do no harm to appeal 
 to the prince's conscience to lead an honorable life, and direct 
 his thoughts more to study than to love, but you shall not 
 make a hypocrite of him and misuse his natural good-nature. 
 If the Rosicrucians try to force the prince and rule him, I 
 will show them that I am master, and will no longer suffer 
 their absurdities, but will break up the whole nest of them ! 
 I have been much annoyed at the deep despondency of the 
 
378 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 crown prince. You shall not represent to him that baseness 
 and virtue are the same, and that he is the latter when he be- 
 trays those to whom he has sworn fidelity and affection. An 
 honorable man must, above all, be cognizant of benefits, and 
 not forsake those who have sacrificed their honor and love to 
 him, and have proved their fidelity. Have you understood 
 me, gentlemen?" 
 
 " It will be my holy duty to follow strictly your majesty'.: 
 commands," said Bischofswerder. 
 
 "And I also will strive to promote the will of my king,'* 
 asserted Wollner. 
 
 " It will be necessary to do so, or you two gentlemen may 
 find yourselves at Spandau. I would say to you once for all, 
 I will not suffer any sects ; every one can worship God in his 
 own way. No one shall have the arrogant presumption to 
 declare himself one of the elect. We are all sinners. The 
 Eosicrucians are not better than the Hluminati or Free- 
 masons, and none are more worthy than the tailor and cob- 
 bler who does his duty. Adieu !" 
 
 The king nodded quickly and pointed to the door out of 
 which the two brothers were about to disappear, when he 
 called them back. 
 
 " If the prince is not at the palace on your return, I advise 
 you not to pursue him, but reflect that the Invisibles may 
 have summoned him to a communion of spirits; I believe, too, 
 that I kept you waiting ; but without doubt you were com- 
 forted by the Fathers, who bore you away upon their wings, 
 and gave you food and drink ! Those who are protected by 
 the spirits, and can summon them at pleasure, can never 
 want. If you are hungry, call up the departed Lucullus, that 
 he may provide for you to eat ; and if you have no earthly 
 seat, summon Semiramis that she may send you her hanging 
 gardens for the quiet repose of the elect ! I am rejoiced that 
 you have enjoyed such celestial refreshments in the corridor. 
 Adieu!" 
 
 The king gazed sadly after them. Approaching Herzberg, 
 
THE KING AND THE ROSICRUCIANS. 379 
 
 he said : " I felt, as I looked at the two rogues, that it was a 
 pity to grow old. Did you think that I would let them off so 
 easily?" 
 
 "Sire, I really do not understand you," replied Herzberg, 
 shrugging his shoulders. " I know not, in your most active 
 youthful days, how you could have done otherwise." 
 
 " I will tell you that, if I were not an old man, void of 
 decision and energy, I would have had these fellows taken to 
 Spandau for life!" said the king, striking the table with his 
 staff. 
 
 "Your mjaesty does yourself injustice," said Herzberg, 
 smiling. " You were ever a just monarch in your most ardent 
 youth, and never set aside the law. These men were not 
 guilty of any positive crime." 
 
 " They are daily and hourly guilty of enticing away from 
 me the crown prince, and making the future ruler of my 
 country an obscurer, a necromancer, and at the same time a 
 libertine ! I was obliged to overlook his youthful preference 
 for Wilhelmine Enke, and wink at this amour, for I know 
 that a crown prince is human, and his affections are to be 
 consulted. If he cannot love the wife which diplomacy 
 chooses for him, then he must be permitted the chosen one of 
 his heart to console him for the forced marriage. At the 
 same time this person was passable, and without the usual 
 fault of such creatures, a desire to rule and mingle in politics. 
 She seems to be unambitious and unpretentious. These Rosi- 
 crucians would banish her by increasing the number of favor- 
 ites, that they may rule him, and make the future King of 
 Prussia a complete tool in their hands. They excite his mind, 
 which is not too well balanced, and rob him by their witch- 
 craft of the intellect that he has. They promise him to find 
 the philosopher's stone, and make a fool of him. Am I not 
 right?" 
 
 " I must acknowledge that you are," sighed Herzberg. 
 
 " And admit also that it would be just to send these in- 
 famous fellows as criminals to Spandau." 
 
380 OLD FEITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 "Sire, unfortunately, there are crimes and offences which 
 the law does not reach, and which cannot be judged." 
 
 " When I was young," said the king," I tore up and stamped 
 upon every weed that I found in my garden. Shall I now let 
 these two grow and infect the air, because the law gives me 
 no right to crush them? Formerly I would have torn them 
 leaf from leaf, but now I am old and useless, my hand is 
 weak, and lacks the strength to uproot them, therefore I 
 suffer them to stand, and all the other abominable things 
 which these rogues bring to pass. A cloud is rising, from 
 which a storm will one day burst over Prussia ; but I cannot 
 dissipate it, for the little strength and breath that remains 
 I have need of for the government ; and, moreover, I have no 
 superfluous time for the future, but must live and work only 
 for the present." 
 
 "But the blessing of your exertions will be felt in the 
 future. The deeds of a great man are not extinguished with 
 his death, but shine like a star, disseminating light beyond 
 his grave!" 
 
 " This light is just what the Kosicrucians will take care to 
 extinguish like a tallow candle with too long a wick, and it is 
 good fortune that the astronomers have awarded me a little 
 glorification in the heavens, and accorded me a star, for the 
 Kosicrucians would not let it shine here below. I must con- 
 sole myself with this, and recall that when it is dark and 
 lowering here, I have a star above in the sky!" 
 
 " This star is Frederick's honor," cried Herzberg. " It will 
 beam upon future generations, and become the guiding light 
 of the sons and nephews of your house, and they will learn to 
 be as sagacious and wise as the Great Frederick." 
 
 "There you have made a great error, Herzberg," replied 
 the king, quickly. " Future generations are never taught by 
 the past — grandchildren think themselves wiser than their 
 grandparents. The greatest of heroes is forgotten, and his 
 deeds buried in the dust of ages. You have given me a 
 glorious title of honor, and I know how little I deserve it. " 
 
THE ESPOUSALS. 381 
 
 " A title which will be confirmed in centuries to come, for 
 every history will speak of Frederick the Second as Frederick 
 the Great." 
 
 " In history it may be, but the people will speak of me as 
 'Old Fritz' — that will be on the lips of those who love me, 
 and expression of endearment; on the lips of those who hate 
 me, one of disaffection. I am, indeed, 'Old Fritz,' which the 
 Bischofswerders and Wollners also call me, and try to make 
 the crown prince believe that I have outlived my period, and 
 do not understand or esteem the modern time. In their eyes 
 I am a dismantled ship of state, which the storms of life have 
 rendered unseaworthy. They would refit the vessel, and give 
 it a new flag, sending Old Fritz, the helmsman, to the devil! 
 The day of my death they will hoist this flag, with ' Modern 
 Time ' inscribed upon it in large letters. I shall then be 
 united in Elysium with Voltaire, Jordan, Suhm, and all my 
 other friends, as we were wont to be at Sans-Souci, and look 
 down with a pitying smile upon the Modern Time and Old 
 Folly!— Vale!" - 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXVII. 
 
 THE ESPOUSALS. 
 
 Both Bischofswerder and Wollner hastened to avail them- 
 selves of the commanding "adieu," and quit the royal pres- 
 ence. Without, the carriage was ready to reconvey them to 
 the new palace. They were so exhausted that neither of 
 them uttered a word, the last injunctions of the king ringing 
 in their ears. 
 
 Silently they alighted upon arriving, but as the footman 
 came out to meet them they asked, simultaneously, if his 
 royal highness had dined. 
 
 " His highness is not here, having departed immediately after 
 the two gentlemen, and is not yet returned," he answered. 
 
382 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 " Yon may serve tis something to eat as qnickly as possible 
 in the little dining-room. Let it be ready in a quarter of an 
 hour," commanded Bischofswerder. 
 
 " Now that we are alone, what do you think of this affair?" 
 asked Wollner. 
 
 " I cannot vouchsafe a reply until I have eaten a pheasant's 
 wing, and drunken my champagne," replied Bischofswerder. 
 
 He kept his word, preserving a solemn silence until a good 
 half of the bird had disappeared, and many glasses of iced 
 champagne. 
 
 Then Bischofswerder leaned back in his comfortable arm- 
 chair with infinite ease, whilst his friend occupied himself 
 with the most pious zeal with the pheasant, rejoicing at this 
 revelation of the Invisibles. Bischofswerder let him enjoy it, 
 and ordered the footman to serve the dessert and withdraw. 
 
 " Now I am prepared to reply to you, my dear friend, that 
 we are alone. I believe the king would have sent us to Span- 
 dau at once if we had opposed his free-thinking opinions." 
 
 " 1 am convinced of it," sighed Wollner, eying the remains 
 of the bird with a melancholy glance. " We shall have much 
 to endure for the holy cause which we serve." 
 
 " That is to say, we will have much to suffer if we, in 
 fanatical indiscretion, do not submit to circumstances," said 
 Bischofswerder. 
 
 "You cannot traduce the sublime Fathers!" cried Woll- 
 ner ; — " for the body's security, we cannot endanger the sal- 
 vation of our souls, and, like Peter, deny our master." 
 
 " No, my much-loved and noble friend. But we must be 
 wise as serpents, and our duty to the holy order is to preserve 
 its useful tools that they may not be lost. You will agree 
 with me in this?" 
 
 "Indeed, I do admit it," replied Wollner, pathetically. 
 
 "Further, you will acknowledge that we are very useful, 
 and I might say indispensable tools of the Sublime Order of 
 the Rosi crucians and the Invisible Fathers of the Order of 
 Jesus? It is our task to secure an abiding-place to the pro- 
 
THE ESPOUSALS. 383 
 
 scribed and cursed, to plough and sow the field, which will 
 yield good fruit for humanity entire, and particularly our 
 order, when the crown prince ascends the throne. We will 
 here erect a kingdom of the future, and it is all- important to 
 lay so secure a corner-stone in the heart of his highness that 
 nothing can shake or dislodge it. Who could perfect this 
 work if we were not here? Who would dare to undertake the 
 difficult task if we should fail? Who would carry on a secret 
 and continued warfare with this artful and powerful seduct- 
 ress if we were conquered?" 
 
 "No one would do it," sighed Wollner, "no one would sac- 
 rifice themselves like Samson for this Delilah." 
 
 " We will together be the Samson," replied Bischofswerder, 
 drawing a glass of sparkling champagne. " We will be the 
 Samson which the Philistines drove out, but this woman shall 
 not practise the arts of Delilah upon us in putting our eyes 
 out or cutting off our hair. Against two Samsons the most 
 artful and beautiful Delilah is not wary enough ; and if we 
 cannot conquer her, we must resort to other means." 
 
 " What may they be, dear brother?" 
 
 "We must compromise the matter." 
 
 Wollner sprang up, and a flush of anger or from champagne 
 overspread his face " Compromise with the sinful creature!" 
 he cried, impetuously. " Make peace with the seductress, 
 who leads the prince from the path of virtue !" 
 
 " Yes, we must be on friendly terms with this woman, who 
 could greatly injure us as an enemy, and aid us infinitely as a 
 friend. This is my intention, and I am the more convinced 
 that we must accept this middle course, as she is protected by 
 the king." 
 
 " Because he knows from his spies that she mingles with 
 the Bluminati and the Freemasons, and that she is our op- 
 ponent," said Wollner. 
 
 " The more the reason, my noble zealot, to win her friend- 
 ship, who will have validity and power until the crown prince 
 reigns, and this old godless freethinker of a king is in his 
 
384 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 grave ! Then Prussia will commence a new era, and we shall 
 be lords, and guide the machine of state. For such lofty aims 
 one ought to be ready to compromise with his Satanic majesty 
 even. Then why not with this little she-devil, whose power 
 is fading every year with her youth and beauty?" 
 
 "It is quite true, we should be mindful of the device of 
 our Invisible Fathers. The end sanctifies the means," sighed 
 Wollner. 
 
 " I believe it to be indispensable, and you will grant that I 
 am right. Do you not see that the prince has availed himself 
 of our absence to go there, and has not yet returned?" 
 
 "What!" shrieked Wollner, clasping his hands — "you do 
 not mean that — " 
 
 " That Rinaldo has returned to the enchanted garden of 
 Armida." 
 
 " Oh, let us hasten to release him at once, and rescue his 
 soul from perdition!" cried Wollner, springing up. 
 
 " On the contrary, let us await him here without a word of 
 reproach upon his return. This will touch his tender heart 
 which we must work upon, if we would get him into our 
 power, for to us he must belong. Fill our glasses with the 
 sparkling wine, and drink to the contract with Wilhelmine 
 Enke." 
 
 Just as merrily they quaffed the champagne in the little 
 cosy dining-room at Charlottenburg, where the prince and 
 Wilhelmine were rejoicing over a reconciliation, no one being 
 present but the two children. Their joyous laugh and inno- 
 cent jests delighted the father, and the beaming eyes, sweet 
 smile, and witty conversation of his favorite, filled his heart 
 with pleasure. 
 
 Not a word of reproach escaped her, but exultant and joy- 
 ous she hastened with outstretched arms to meet him, kissing 
 away all his attempts to implore pardon, and thanking him 
 that he had returned to her. 
 
 At first the prince gave himself up to the joy of the re- 
 union with his beloved Wilhelmine and children ; but now, as 
 
THE ESPOUSALS. 385 
 
 the first outburst had passed, the quiet, happy dinner being 
 finished, and they had returned to the sitting-room, a tinge 
 of melancholy earnestness overshadowed his amiable face. 
 
 Wilhelmine threw her arms gently around his neck as she 
 sat beside him upon the divan, and looked up to him with a 
 tender questioning glance. " Your thoughts are veiled, dear- 
 est; will you not confide to me that which lies concealed 
 there?" 
 
 " Ah, Wilhelmine, it is a mourning veil, and hides the sor- 
 row of renunciation." 
 
 "I do not understand you, Frederick," she smilingly re- 
 plied. "Who could compel you to an abnegation which 
 would cause you grief?" 
 
 " Listen to me, Wilhelmine, and understand that I am 
 suffering from circumstances — an oath taken in the pressure 
 of the moment. Try to comprehend me, my dear child." 
 
 Drawing her closer to him, he faithfully related to her the 
 night of the communion of the spirits, and his consequent 
 oath. 
 
 " Is that all, my dear?" she replied, smiling, as he finished. 
 
 "What do you mean?" he asked, astonished. 
 
 " Nothing more than I would know if you have only sworn 
 to renounce Wilhelmine Enke!" 
 
 "What could I have done more prejudicial to you?" he 
 cried, not a little irritated. 
 
 " Surely you could not injure or grieve me more, and there- 
 fore I am not a little surprised that the pious Fathers could 
 so carelessly word their oaths. You have sworn to renounce 
 your affection to and separate from Wilhelmine Enke ; so it 
 follows that the Invisibles only demand that you give up my 
 name, not myself, and that is easily changed, and my dear 
 prince will not become a perjurer." 
 
 " I do not quite understand you ; but I perceive by the arch 
 expression of your face that you have conceived a lucky escape 
 for your unhappy Frederick William. Explain to me, dear- 
 est, your meaning." 
 
OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 "I must change my name by marrying some one!" she 
 whispered. 
 
 "Marry! and I give you to another? I will never consent 
 to that," he cried, alarmed. 
 
 " Not to a husband, only a name," said she. " These Kosi- 
 crucians are such extraordinarily virtuous and pure beings, 
 loving you so infinitely and disinterestedly, that it grieves 
 them that my love for you does not shun the light, and throw 
 over itself the mantle of hypocritical virtue ! We will yield 
 to the zealous purity of the Eosicrucians, " continued Wilhel- 
 mine, her eyes sparkling, " and wrap this Wilhelmine Enke 
 in a mantle of virtue by giving her a husband ; and then, 
 when she walks out with her children the passers-by will not 
 have to blush with shame, and cry, 'There goes the miss with 
 her children ! ' I have conceived and planned during this 
 long and painful separation, and I am resolved to submit 
 humbly to the pious Fathers, who are so zealously watchful 
 for the salvation of your soul and my good fame." 
 
 " That is to say, you are determined to snap your fingers at 
 them ! Your plan is a good one, but you will find no one to 
 aid you in a sham marriage!" 
 
 "I have already found one," whispered Wilhelmine, smil- 
 ing. " Your valet de chambre Eietz is willing to stand with 
 me in a sham marriage." 
 
 " My body-servant!" 
 
 " Yes, Frederick William ! You will confess that I am not 
 ambitious, and only consent to it to secure our happiness 
 from the persecution of these virtuous men. Here is the con- 
 tract," said she, drawing from her dress-pocket a paper, 
 which she unfolded. " He promises to give me his name, and 
 regard me as a stranger always, for the sum of four hundred 
 thalers annually, with the promise of promotion to confidential 
 servant when the noble crown prince shall ascend the throne. * 
 Will you sign it?" 
 
 " I will do any thing that will grant me your affection, in 
 
 ♦Historical.— See F Forster, "Latest Prussian History," vol. i., p. 74. 
 
THE ESPOUSALS. 387 
 
 spite of my unhappy oath. Give me the paper. I will sign 
 it. When is the wedding?" 
 
 " The moment that you, my dear lord and master, have in- 
 scribed your name," said Wilhelmine, handing him the pen, 
 and pointing to the paper. 
 
 The prince wrote the desired signature, quickly throwing 
 the pen across the room, shouting, " Long live Wilhelmine 
 Eietz, who has rescued me from perjury and sin ! Come to 
 my arms, outstretched to press to my heart the most beauti- 
 ful, most intelligent, and most diplomatic of women!" 
 
 Two days later it was related in Berlin that Wilhelmine 
 Enke had married the princely valet de chambre Rietz, the 
 crown prince being present at the ceremony, which took place 
 at a small village near Potsdam. 
 
 Under the head of marriages, the Berlin newspapers an- 
 nounced " Wilhelmine Enke to Carl Rietz." 
 
 "Ah, my Rosi crucians," cried Wilhelmine, laughingly, as 
 she read this notice, a mischievous triumph sparkling in her 
 eyes ; " ah, my heroes in virtue, for once you are outwitted, 
 and I am victorious! I would like to witness their surprise. 
 How they will laugh and swear over it ! The favorite of a 
 prince married to a valet de chambre ! Wait until the prince 
 becomes a king, then Wilhelmine Rietz will develop into a 
 beautiful butterfly, and the wife of the valet de chambre will 
 become a countess — nay, a princess. The Great Kophta has 
 promised it, and he shall keep his word. I wear his ring, 
 which sparkles and glistens, although the jeweller declares 
 the diamond has been exchanged for a false stone. No mat- 
 ter, if it only shines like the real one. Every thing earthly 
 is deception, falsehood, and glitter. Every one is storming 
 and pressing on in savage eagerness toward fortune, honor, 
 and fame ! I will have my part in it. The storm and press- 
 ure of the world rage in my own heart. The fire of ambition 
 is lighted in my soul, and the insatiable thirst for fortune 
 consumes me. Blaze and burn until the day that Frederick 
 William ascends the throne ; then the low-born daughter of 
 
388 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA, 
 
 the trumpeter will become the high-born countess. The false 
 stone 1 will change to the sparkling diamond and Cagliostro 
 shall then serve me." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 BEYENGE FULFILLED. 
 
 Since the soiree at the house of the rich banker, Eben- 
 streit, an entire winter had passed in pleasures and fetes. 
 The position of Baron Ebenstreit von Leuthen had been rec- 
 ognized in aristocratic society, thanks to his dinners, soirees, 
 balls, fetes, and particularly to his lovely, spirited, and proud 
 wife. Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthen had reached the acme of 
 his ambition ; his house was the resort of the most distin- 
 guished society ; the extravagance and superb arrangements of 
 his dinners and fetes were the theme of every tongue. This 
 excessive admiration flattered the vain, ambitious parvenu ex- 
 tremely, and it was the happiest day of his life when Prince 
 Henry of Prussia, brother of Erederick the Great, did him 
 the unspeakable honor to dine with him. This gratifying 
 day he owed to his wife, and, as he said, it ought to be kept 
 as the greatest triumph of money over prejudice and eti- 
 quette — the day upon which a royal prince recognized the 
 rich and newly-created noble as his equal. Ebenstreit 's en- 
 trance into the highest circle of aristocracy was due to the 
 management and tone of the world of his wife, who under- 
 stood the elegancies of life, passing as an example and ideal 
 of an elegant woman, of which her husband was very proud. 
 He lauded his original and crafty idea of devoting his money 
 to such a satisfactory purchase as a sensible and ladylike wife, 
 although the union was not a happy one, and, in the proper 
 acceptation of the word, no marriage at all. 
 
 Whilst all were entertained at the fetes, and envied the 
 splendor and wealth of Baron von Ebenstreit, there were 
 
REVENGE FULFILLED. 389 
 
 many sinister remarks as to the possibility of sustaining this 
 expenditure upon such a grand scale. It was whispered about 
 that the banking-house, conducted under another name, had 
 lost in extensive speculations, and that the baron lived upon 
 his principal instead of his interest. The business com- 
 munity declared that the firm entered into the most daring 
 and senseless undertakings, and that it must go to ruin. 
 The old book-keeper, Splittgerber, who had for many years 
 conducted the business, had been pensioned by the baron, 
 and commenced for himself. His successor had once vent- 
 ured to warn the nobleman, and represent to him the danger 
 which threatened him, for which he was immediately dis- 
 missed, and the fact communicated to the entire house, at 
 a special assemblage of the clerks for the purpose, with the 
 warning of a like fate for every subordinate who should pre- 
 sume to criticise the acts of the principals, or proffer advice to 
 them. Since this no one had ventured to repeat the offence, 
 but every member of the house occupied himself in drawing 
 a profit from the general and daily increasing confusion, and 
 save something from the wreck which would inevitably ensue. 
 The baron, with pretentious unconcern, dazzled by his un- 
 usual honors, permitted his business affairs to take their 
 course with smiling unconcern, and when unsuccessful, to 
 hide the mistakes of the banker under the pomp of the baron. 
 
 Marie, indulging in the style of a great lady, appeared not 
 to notice or trouble herself at all about these things. She 
 entertained most luxuriantly, and spent enormous sums upon 
 her toilet, changed the costly livery of her numerous retinue 
 of servants every month, as well as the furniture of the 
 drawing-rooms; and presented with generous liberality her 
 superfluous ornaments, dresses, and furniture to her dear 
 high-born friends, who greedily accepted them, and were 
 overflowing in their tender protestations and gratitude, whilst 
 they in secret revolted at the presumption of the arrogant 
 woman, who permitted herself to send them her cast-off things. 
 
 They rejoiced to receive them, however, and reappeared in 
 
390 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 her splendid drawing-rooms, enduring the pride and neglect 
 of the baroness, and calling her their dear friend, whom they 
 in secret envied and hated. 
 
 Did Marie know this, or did she let herself be deceived by 
 these friendly protestations? Occasionally, when her friends 
 embraced and kissed her, a languid smile flitted over her 
 haughty face ; and once as she wandered through the suite of 
 rooms, awaiting her guests, she caught the reflection of a 
 beautiful woman in the costly Venetian mirrors, sparkling 
 with diamonds and wearing a silver-embroidered dress with a 
 train. She gazed at this woman with an expression of in- 
 effable scorn, and whispered to her : " Suffer yet awhile, you 
 shall soon be released. This miserable trash will disappear. 
 Only be firm — I hear already the cracking of the house which 
 will soon fall a wreck at your feet!" 
 
 Others heard it also. As preparations were being made for 
 a grand dinner, with which the Baron and Baroness von 
 Ebenstreit would close the season, the former head book- 
 keeper of the baron appeared at the palace, demanding, with 
 anxious mien, to see the principal. 
 
 Just at the moment the baron and his wife were in the 
 large reception-room, which the decorator was splendidly ar- 
 ranging, under the direction of the baroness, with flowers, 
 festoons, columns, and statues. Ebenstreit was watching 
 admiringly the tasteful and costly display as the footman 
 announced the former book-keeper and present banker, Splitt- 
 gerber. 
 
 "He must come at another time," cried Ebenstreit, im- 
 patiently, "lam busy now; I — " 
 
 "Excuse me, baron," replied an earnest, gentle voice be- 
 hind him, "that I have followed the lackey and entered 
 unbidden. I come on urgent business, and I must indeed 
 speak with you instantly!" 
 
 "Be brief then, at least'," cried Ebenstreit, peevishly. 
 " You see that my wife is here, and we are very busy arrang- 
 ing for a grand dinner to-day. " 
 
REVENGE FULFILLED. 391 
 
 Herr Splittgerber, instead of replying, cast a peculiarly 
 sad, searching glance through the beautifully-adorned room, 
 and at the two lackeys, who stood on each side of the wide 
 folding -doors. 
 
 " Permit that these servants withdraw, and order them to 
 close the doors," said the book-keeper, almost commandingly. 
 Ebenstreit, overruled by the solemn earnestness, obeyed 
 against his will. 
 
 "Would you like me to leave also, sir?" said Marie, with a 
 calm, haughty manner. " You have only to ask it and the 
 baron will, undoubtedly, accord your request." 
 
 "On the contrary, I beg you to remain," quietly replied 
 Splittgerber, " for what I have to say concerns you and your 
 husband equally. " 
 
 " Now, then, I beg you to say it quickly," cried Ebenstreit, 
 impatiently ; " I repeat, that we are very busy with preparing 
 for to-day's festival." 
 
 "You will not give any fe'te to-day," said Splittgerber, 
 solemnly. 
 
 Ebenstreit, cringing and frightened, gazed at the old man. 
 who looked sadly at him. 
 
 The baroness laughed aloud, sneeringly. "My dear sir, 
 your tone and manner remind me of the wicked spirit at the 
 horrible moment in the story when be comes to demand the 
 bartered soul, and the enchanted castle falls a wreck!" 
 
 " Your comparison is an apt one, baroness," sighed the old 
 man. — " I came to you, baron, because I loved your father. I 
 have served your house thirty years, and amassed the little I 
 had to commence business with in your service. Moreover, 
 when you so suddenly dismissed me, you not only gave me my 
 salary as a pension, but you funded the annuity with a con- 
 siderable sum, which makes me, through your house, in- 
 dependent in means." 
 
 " You may thank my wife for that. She demanded, when 
 I dismissed you, that I should compensate you with the liber- 
 ality of a true nobleman." 
 
392 OLD ERITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 "Oh, would that you had not done it, baroness!" cried 
 Splittgerber — " would that you had permitted the old faithful 
 pioneer in the business to remain by your husband! He 
 might have warded off this misfortune and saved you by his 
 experience and advice." 
 
 "For this very reason I demanded your removal. You 
 permitted yourself to proffer advice which I felt did not be- 
 come you," replied Marie, with a strange smile of triumph. 
 
 "And, I repeat, would that you had not done it!" sighed 
 the old man. " I came to warn you, to conjure you, to save 
 yourselves-— to flee while there is yet time." 
 
 "Oh, mercy! what has happened?" cried Ebenstreit, ter- 
 rified. 
 
 "The banking-house of Ebenstreit, founded under the 
 name of Ludwig, associated with Ehlert of Amsterdam, four 
 months since, to buy and load ships for the Calcutta market. 
 Herr Ebenstreit gathered together the last wrecks of his for- 
 tune remaining from his ruinous speculations, to win enor- 
 mously in this investment. Besides, he indorsed the notes of 
 the Amsterdam house for the sum of eighty thousand dollars, 
 which has been drawn, so that their notes are protested there. 
 Herr Ebenstreit will have to pay this sum!" 
 
 "What else?" asked Ebenstreit, almost breathless. 
 
 " The house of Ehlert, in Amsterdam, has failed ; the prin- 
 cipal has fled with the coffers ; the notes for eighty thousand 
 dollars were protested, and you, baron, must pay this sum to- 
 day, or declare yourself a bankrupt, and go to prison for 
 debt." 
 
 Instantaneously a suppressed cry and a laugh were heard. 
 Ebenstreit sank upon a seat, concealing his pallid face with 
 his hands, while Marie stood at his side, her face beaming 
 with joy. 
 
 " I am lost, I do not possess the eighth part of that sum ! 
 I cannot pay it. I must submit, for there are no further 
 means to prevent it." 
 
 "No," replied Marie, with haughty tranquillity, "you have 
 
REVENGE FULFILLED. 393 
 
 no further means to prevent it. The rich banker Ebenstreit 
 will leave this house, no longer his own, to enter the debtor's 
 prison poor as a beggar — nay, worse, a defrauder!" 
 
 " Oh, how cruel you are!" groaned Ebenstreit. 
 
 "Did you say, baroness, that this house is no longer his?" 
 asked Splittgerber, alarmed. 
 
 " No," she triumphantly cried. " It belongs to me, and all 
 that is in it — the pictures, statues, silver, diamonds, and 
 pearls. Oh, I am still a rich woman!" 
 
 " And do you mean to retain this wealth if your husband 
 becomes bankrupt? Do you not possess a common interest?" 
 asked Splittgerber. 
 
 " No, thank Heaven, the community of interest was given 
 up a year since," cried Ebenstreit, joyfully. "Baroness von 
 Ebenstreit is the lawful possessor of this house and furniture. 
 I was not so indiscreet as you supposed. I have at least se- 
 cured this to my wife, and she will be a rich woman even if I 
 fail, and will not let me starve. I shall divide about ten per 
 cent, with my creditors, but my wife will be rich enough for 
 us both. " 
 
 " This gives me to understand that you intend to make a 
 fraudulent bankruptcy. You have settled every thing upon 
 your wife to save yourself from the unhappy consequences of 
 your failure. You will still be a rich man if your wife should 
 sell her house, works of art, diamonds, gold and silver service, 
 and equipages." 
 
 "Yes, indeed, a very rich man," said Marie. " In the last 
 few weeks I have had my property estimated, and it would at 
 least bring three hundred thousand dollars." 
 
 " If the baron only possessed this, he could pay his creditors, 
 and have a small amount over, sufficient to live upon economi- 
 cally and genteelly. But you would rather enjoy splendor, 
 and are not particular about living honorably. You will un- 
 doubtedly sell your property, and go to Paris, to revel in 
 luxury and pleasure, while your defrauded creditors may, 
 through you. come to poverty and want. — Baron, I now see 
 26 
 
394 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 that your wife did well to bring about my removal. I should 
 have, above all things, given you the unwelcome advice to 
 sustain your honor unblemished, and dispose of your costly 
 surroundings for the benefit of your creditors, that when you 
 die it may be with a clear conscience. You prefer a life of 
 luxury and ease, rocking your conscience to sleep until God 
 will rouse it to a fearful awaking. But do as you like. I 
 came here to offer you assistance, thinking that you would 
 dispose of this property, and after paying your creditors have 
 sufficient to live upon. Then I could be permitted to prove 
 my fidelity to you. I now see that I was a fool. Yet in part- 
 ing I will still beg of you to avoid the unfavorable impression 
 of this dinner. The bill of exchange will be presented at four 
 o'clock, and the bearer will not be satisfied with the excuse 
 of your non-payment on account of dinner-company. You 
 will be obliged to settle at once or be arrested. I have learned 
 this from your chief creditor, and I begged him to have for- 
 bearance for you. I shall now justify him in showing you 
 none, as you do not deserve it! — Farewell!" 
 
 The old book-keeper turned with a slight nod, and strode 
 away through the drawing-room. 
 
 "Have you nothing to say to him? Will you let him go 
 thus?" asked Marie, impetuously. 
 
 "Nothing at all. What should I say?" he replied, shrug- 
 ging his shoulders. 
 
 " Then I will speak with him." Marie called loudly after 
 Splittgerber, saying, " I have a word to speak to you." 
 
 The book-keeper remained standing near the door, and 
 turning with downcast face, demanded of Marie what she 
 wished. 
 
 "I have something to tell you," she replied, with her 
 usual tranquil, proud demeanor, approaching Splittgerber, 
 who regarded her with severity and contempt, which she met 
 with a gentle, friendly expression, a sweet smile hovering on 
 her lips. 
 
 Marie came close up to the old man, who awaited her with 
 
REVENGE FULFILLED. 395 
 
 haughty defiance, and never advanced one step to meet her — 
 a lady spendidly bedecked with diamonds and gold-embroid- 
 ered satin. She whispered a few words in his ear. He 
 started, and, astonished, looked into her face, as if question- 
 ing what he heard. She nodded, smiling, and bent again to 
 say a few words. 
 
 Suddenly Splittgerber seemed metamorphosed. His gloomy 
 face brightened a little, and his insolent glance was changed 
 to one of deep emotion. Bowing profoundly as he held the 
 baroness's proffered hand to take leave, he pressed it most re- 
 spectfully to his lips. 
 
 "You will return in an hour?" Marie asked. 
 
 "Yes; I shall seek the gentlemen, and bring them with 
 me," he graciously replied. 
 
 "Thanks; I will then await you." 
 
 Splittgerber departed, and Marie returned to Ebenstreit 
 who, amazed, muttered some unintelligible words, having lis- 
 tened to her mysterious conversation with the old book-keeper. 
 
 "Now to you, sir!" said she, her whole tone and manner 
 changing to harsh command; " the hour for settling our ac- 
 counts has arrived — the hour that I have awaited, purchasing 
 it by four years of torture, self-contempt, and despair. This 
 comedy is at an end. I will buy of you my freedom. Do you 
 hear me? I will cast off these galley-chains. I will be free!" 
 
 "Oh, Marie!" he cried, retreating in terror, "with what 
 fearful detestation you regard me!" 
 
 "Do you wonder at it? Have I ever concealed this hate 
 from you, or ever given you hope to believe that a reconcil- 
 iation would be possible between us?" 
 
 " No, truly you have not, but now you will forgive me, for 
 you know how I love you, and have provided for your future. 
 You will remain rich, and I shall be poor." 
 
 Marie regarded him with unspeakable contempt. "You 
 are more despicable than I thought you were. You do not 
 deserve forbearance or pity, for you are a dishonorable bank- 
 rupt, who cares not how much others may suffer, provided 
 
896 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 his future is secured. I will not, however, suffer the name 
 which I have borne against my will, to be defamed and be- 
 come a mark for scorn. I will compel you to remain an hon- 
 est man, and be just to your creditors. I propose to pay the 
 bills of exchange, which will be presented to you to-day, pro- 
 vided you will consent to my conditions." 
 
 "Oh, Marie, you are an angel!" he cried, rushing toward 
 her and kneeling at her feet. " I will do all that you wish, 
 and consent to every thing you propose." 
 
 "Will you swear it?" she coldly replied. 
 
 " I swear that I accept your conditions." 
 
 " Bring the writing-materials from the window-niche, and 
 seat yourself by this table." 
 
 Ebenstreit brought them, and seated himself by the Floren- 
 tine mosaic table, near which Marie was standing. 
 
 She drew from her pocket a paper, which she unfolded and 
 placed before him to sign. " Sign this with your full name, 
 and add, 'With my own free will and consent,'" she com- 
 mandingly ordered him. 
 
 " But you will first make known to me the contents?" 
 
 "You have sworn to sign it," she said, " and unless you ac- 
 cept my conditions, you are welcome to be incarcerated for 
 life in the debtor's prison. You have only to choose. If you 
 decide in the negative, I will exert myself that your creditors 
 do not free you. I should trust in the justice of God having 
 sent you there, and that man in miserable pity should not act 
 against His will in freeing you. Now decide ; will you sign 
 the paper, or go to prison as a dishonorable bankrupt?" 
 
 He hastily seized the pen and wrote his name, handing the 
 paper to Marie, sighing. 
 
 " You have forgotten to add the clause, 'With my own free 
 will and consent, ' " she replied, hastily glancing at it,letting the 
 paper drop like a wilted leaf, and her eyes flashing with scorn. 
 
 Ebenstreit saw it, and as he again handed her the paper, 
 he exclaimed, " I read in your eyes the intense hate you bear 
 me." 
 
REVENGE FULFILLED. 397 
 
 "Yes," she replied, composedly, "not only hate, but scorn. 
 Hush ! no response. You knew it long before I was forced to 
 stand at the altar with you. I warned you not to unite your- 
 self to me, and you had the impious audacity to defy me with 
 your riches. The seed of hate which you then sowed, you 
 may to-day reap the fruits of. You shall recognize now that 
 money is miserable trash, and that when deprived of it you 
 will never win sympathy from your so-called friends, but they 
 will turn from you with contempt, when you crave their pity 
 or aid." 
 
 "I think that you exaggerate, dearest," said Ebenstreit, 
 fawningly. "You have many devoted friends among the 
 ladies, and I can well say that I have found, among the dis- 
 tinguished gentlemen who visit our house, many noble, ex- 
 cellent ones who have met me with a warmth of friendship — " 
 
 "Because they would borrow money of the rich man," in- 
 terrupted Marie. 
 
 " Of course my coffers have always been accessible to my 
 dear friends, and I prized the honor of proving my friendship 
 by my deeds." 
 
 " You will realize to-day how they prove their gratitude to 
 you for it. Go, receive the good friends whom you have in- 
 vited. It is time that they were here, and I perceive the 
 carriages are approaching. " 
 
 Marie motioned to the door, with a dictatorial wave of her 
 hand, and Ebenstreit betook himself to the reception-room. 
 Just as he crossed the threshold, the usher announced " Herr 
 Gedicke!" Ebenstreit greeted him hastily in passing, and 
 the old man went on to meet the baroness, who was hastening 
 toward him. 
 
 " You have most graciously invited me to your house to-day, 
 and you will excuse me that my earnest wish to see you has 
 brought me earlier than any other guest. " 
 
 " I begged you to come a quarter of an hour sooner, for I 
 would gladly speak with you alone a few moments." 
 
 " I thought so, and hastened up here." 
 
398 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 " Did not my old Trade go to see you some days since?" 
 asked Marie, timidly. 
 
 " She did, and you can well understand that I was much 
 affected and surprised at her visit. I thought that you had 
 forgotten me, baroness, and that every souvenir of the past 
 had fled from your memory. I now see that your noble, 
 faithful heart can never forget, and therefore has never ceased 
 to suffer, which I ought to regret, for your sake, but for my 
 own it pleased me to receive your kind greeting." 
 
 Marie pressed her hand to her eyes and sighed audibly. 
 " Pray do not speak so gently to me — it enervates me, and I 
 would force myself to endure to-day. Only tell me, did 
 Trude communicate to you my wishes, and will it be possible 
 for you to fulfil them?" 
 
 " Your brave, good friend brought me a thousand dollars, 
 praying me to convey this to Herr Moritz in order to defray 
 the expenses of a journey to Italy." 
 
 " Have you accomplished it, and in such a manner that he 
 does not suspect the source from whence it came? He would 
 not receive it if he had the least suspicion of it. I have seen 
 him secretly several times as he passed to and fro from the 
 Gymnasium, and he appeared to me to grow paler and more 
 languid every day." 
 
 " It is true that since you have come back he has changed. 
 The old melancholy seems to have returned." 
 
 " He needs distraction ; he must go away and forget me. It 
 has always been his earnest wish to travel in Italy. You must 
 tell him that you have succeeded in getting the money for him. " 
 
 " I bethought myself of Moritz's publisher, represented to 
 him how necessary it was for the health of Professor Moritz 
 to travel, begged of him to order a work upon Italy, and par- 
 ticularly the works of art of Eome, and propose to Moritz the 
 acceptance of the money for that object, as he was quite too 
 proud to receive it as a present. " 
 
 "That was an excellent idea," cried Marie. "Has it been 
 accomplished?" 
 
REVENGE FULFILLED. 399 
 
 " Yes, as Herr Manrer made the proposal, and Moritz re- 
 plied, sighing, that he had not the means for such a journey, 
 the publisher immediately offered him half of the remuner- 
 ation in advance; consequently he starts to-morrow for Italy, 
 unknowing of the thousand dollars being your gift." * 
 
 " How much I thank you !" she joyfully cried. " Moritz is 
 saved; he will now recover, and forget all his grief in study- 
 ing the objects of interest in the Eternal City." 
 
 " Do you really believe that?" asked Herr Gedicke. " Were 
 you not also in Italy?" 
 
 " I was indeed there two years, but it was very different 
 with me. It is difficult to forget you are a slave, when listen- 
 ing all the while to the clanking of your chains." 
 
 " My poor child, I read with sorrow the history of the past 
 years in your grief -stricken face. It is the first time we have 
 met since your marriage." 
 
 " See what these years have made of me ! — a miserable wife, 
 whom the world esteems, but who recoils from herself. My 
 heart has changed to stone, and I feel metamorphosed. The 
 sight of you recalls that fearful hour, melting my heart and 
 causing the tears to flow. At that time you blessed me, my 
 friend and father. Oh, grant me your blessing again in this 
 hour of sorrow ! I implore you for it, before an important 
 decision! I long for the sympathy of a noble soul!" 
 
 " I know not, my child, with what grief this hour may be 
 laden for you ; but I lay my hand again upon your head, im- 
 ploring God in His divine mercy to sustain you!" 
 
 " Countess von Moltke and Frau von Morien!" announced 
 the usher. In brilliant toilets the ladies rustled in, hastening 
 toward the baroness, who had now regained her wonted com- 
 posure, and received them in her usual stately manner. 
 
 "How perfectly charming you look to-night!" cried 
 Countess Moltke. " To me you are ever the impersonation of 
 the goddess of wealth and beauty strewing everywhere with 
 
 * This work, which was published after his return, still excites the highest in- 
 terest, and is entitled "Travels of a German in Italy during 1786 and 1787. —Letters 
 of Philip Carl Moritz," 3 vols., Berlin, published by Frederick Maurer. 
 
400 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 lavish generosity your gifts, and turning every thing to gold 
 with your touch. " 
 
 "But whose heart has remained tender and gentle," added 
 Frau von Morien. — "You are indeed a goddess, always en- 
 hancing the pleasures of others. To-day I wear the beautiful 
 bracelet which you sent me because I admired it." 
 
 "And I, ma toute belle," cried the countess, "have adorned 
 myself with this superb gold brocade which you so kindly 
 had sent from Paris for me. " 
 
 " You have forgotten, countess, that you begged of me to 
 give the order for you." 
 
 " Ah, that is true! Then I am your debtor." 
 
 "If you are not too proud to receive it as a present?" 
 
 "Oh, most certainly not; on the contrary, I thank you, 
 my dear. — Tell me, my dear Morien, is not this woman an 
 angel?" 
 
 At this instant the French ambassador, Marquis Treves, 
 appeared among the numerous guests, whom the baroness 
 stepped quickly forward to welcome, withdrawing with him 
 into the window-niche. 
 
 "Welcome, marquis," she said, quickly, in a low voice, 
 " Have you brought me the promised papers?" 
 
 Drawing a sealed packet from his coat-pocket, he handed 
 it to the baroness with a low bow, saying : " I would draw 
 your attention to the fact once more, dear madam, that I 
 have abided by the price named by yourself, in making this 
 sale, although I am still of the opinion that it is below its 
 value." 
 
 " The sum is sufficient for my wants, and I rated its value 
 according as it is taxed." 
 
 " There are a hundred thousand dollars in bills of exchange, 
 payable at the French embassy at any moment," said the 
 marquis. 
 
 "I thank you, sir, for this proof of friendly attention; and 
 as it may be the last time we meet, I would assure you that I 
 shall always remember your many and thoughtful kindnesses." 
 
REVENGE FULFILLED. 401 
 
 " Yon speak, baroness, as if yon wonld forsake the circle 
 of which you are the brightest ornament." 
 
 "No, the friends will forsake me," she replied, with a 
 peculiar smile. " Ere an hour shall pass not one of all these 
 numerous guests will remain here. — Ah, there comes the de- 
 cision! See there, marquis!" 
 
 The usher announced "Banker Splittgerber. " The old 
 man entered followed by two men of not very presentable 
 appearance, and whose toilet was but little in keeping with 
 the brilliantly-decorated room and the aristocratic guests. 
 
 Never heeding the sneers nor contemptuous smiles, the 
 faithful book-keeper wound his way, through the crowd of 
 elegantly dressed ladies and gentlemen, accompanied by the 
 two men, up to Ebenstreit, who, with instinctive politeness, 
 had placed himself near Marie. 
 
 "Gentlemen," said Splittgerber, in a loud voice, "this is 
 Baron Ebenstreit von Leuthen, principal of the banking- 
 house Ludwig." 
 
 The two gentlemen approached, one of them saying, " They 
 sent us here from your office." 
 
 "This is not the place for business," replied Ebenstreit. 
 "Follow me!" 
 
 "No, gentlemen, remain here," cried Marie. "Our guests 
 present are such intimate, devoted friends that we have noth- 
 ing to conceal from them; but on the contrary, I am con- 
 vinced they will only be too happy of the occasion to prove 
 their friendship, of which they have so often assured us. — 
 These gentlemen demand the payment of a bill of exchange 
 for eighty thousand dollars. Take my portfolio, Ebenstreit; 
 there is a pencil in it. Go around and make a collection; 
 undoubtedly the entire sum will be soon noted down." 
 
 Ebenstreit approached the Baron von Frankenstein, saying : 
 " Pardon me if I recall to your memory the sum of one thou- 
 sand louis d'ors, due for four black horses three months 
 since." 
 
 " My dear sir," cried the baron, " xhis is a strange manner 
 
402 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 to collect one's debts. We were invited to a feast, and a pis- 
 tol is pointed at us, demanding our debts to be cancelled!" 
 
 "How strange! How ridiculous!" heard one here and 
 there among the guests, as they, with one accord, pressed 
 toward the door to make their exit, which they found 
 fastened. 
 
 " Eemain," cried Marie, with stately dignity. " I wish you 
 honored guests to be witness of this scene in the hour of jus- 
 tification, as you were also present at the one when one of 
 the noblest and best of men cursed me. — Banker Splittgerber, 
 take these bills of exchange for one hundred thousand dollars. 
 Pay these gentlemen, and devote the remainder to the other 
 debts as far as it will go." 
 
 As the three men withdrew by a side-door, Marie ex- 
 claimed : "I will now explain to you that Baron von Leu- 
 then is ruined — poor as a beggar when he will not work." 
 
 "Marie," cried Ebenstreit, terrified, rushing toward her, 
 and seizing her by the arm. " Marie — " 
 
 She threw off his hand from her in anger. " Do not touch 
 me, sir, and do not presume either to address me with any 
 endearments. You have yourself said that our marriage was 
 not a veritable one, but was like the union of associates in 
 business, and now I would inform you it is dissolved : the 
 one is a bankrupt ; the other a woman whom you cursed, and 
 who reclaims of you four years of shame and degradation. 
 You wonder at my speaking thus, but you do not know this 
 man, my friends." 
 
 As she spoke, a door opened at the farther end of the room, 
 and Trude entered in her simple dress, followed by Philip 
 Moritz. Unobserved the two glided behind the charming 
 grotto which had been arranged with flowers and wreaths in 
 one of the niches. Every eye was turned upon the pale, 
 stately beauty, erect in the centre of the room. 
 
 " Stay here, for no one can see us," whispered Trude. " I 
 could not bear to have you leave Berlin without hearing the 
 justification of my dear Marie, and may God pardon me for 
 
REVENGE FULFILLED. 403 
 
 letting yon come here unbeknown to her ! Listen, and pray 
 to Him to forgive you the great injustice that you have done 
 her. Be quiet, that no one may see you, and Marie be angry 
 with her old Trude. " 
 
 "Yes," continued Marie, with chilling contempt, "you 
 should know this man before whom you have all bowed, 
 pressed the hand, and called your friend, because he was rich, 
 and, thanks to his wealth alone, became a titled man — a 
 baron, buying the hand of a poor but noble maiden, whom he 
 knew despised him, and passionately loved another, having 
 sworn eternal constancy to him. I am that young girl. I 
 begged, nay implored him, not to pursue me, but he was void 
 of pity, mocked my tears, and said he could buy my love, and 
 my heart would at last be touched by the influence of his 
 wealth. I should have preferred to die, but Fate ordered 
 that the one I loved, by my fault, should by imprisonment 
 atone our brief dream of bliss. I could only save him by ac- 
 cepting this man ; these were the conditions. I became his 
 wife before the world, and took my oath in his presence to 
 revenge myself, and after four years I shall accomplish it. I 
 have spent his money, and of the rich man made a beggar. 
 God be praised, I can now revenge myself in freeing myself!" 
 
 "Free yourself? It is not true! You are my wife still," 
 replied Ebenstreit, alarmed. 
 
 A radiant smile flitted over Marie's face as she defied Eben- 
 streit with the law of the Great Frederick, who had decided 
 that every unhappy couple without offspring could separate 
 by their own free will and consent, having signed a paper to 
 that effect. 
 
 "Is that the paper which you have made me sign?" cried 
 Ebenstreit, alarmed. 
 
 " Yes, drawn up by my notary, and both of our names ar© 
 signed to it." 
 
 "It is a fraud!" cried Ebenstreit. "I will protest against 
 it." 
 
 " Do it, and you will find it a vain effort. I promised to 
 
404 OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 pay your debt if you would put your name to the document 
 then placed before you, which you did. Ask the Marquis 
 Treves how I paid your debts : he will answer you that he has 
 given me the money." 
 
 " I had the honor to pay to the baroness one hundred thou- 
 sand dollars, as she rightly informs you." 
 
 "Yes," continued Marie, "the marquis is the present pos- 
 sessor of this house and all that it contains — furniture, 
 statues, and pictures ; also the equipages and silver. To my 
 mother I sent my diamonds, costly laces, and dresses, to in- 
 demnify her for the annuity which Herr von Ebenstreit 
 settled upon her as purchase-money which he cannot pay, now 
 that he is ruined." 
 
 "Marquis," cried Ebenstreit, pale with anger, "have you 
 really bought this house and its contents?" 
 
 "I have done so, and the one hundred thousand dollars 
 the baroness has paid over to Herr Splittgerber. " 
 
 " Oh ! I am ruined, " groaned Ebenstreit — " I am lost ! " and, 
 covering his face with his hands, he rushed from the 
 room. 
 
 Marie gazed at him with a sad expression, saying: " Ladies 
 and gentlemen, you now know to whom this house belongs. 
 You can no longer say that I am the daughter whom the late 
 General von Leuthen sold to a rich man. I am free!" 
 
 At this moment a side-door opened, and Frau von Leuthen 
 was heard saying to old Trude : " Let me in ! it is in vain to 
 hold me back. I will have an explanation from my daughter, 
 and learn what all this means." As she pushed herself into 
 the room, she exclaimed : " Ah, it is a f 6te day ! There is 
 the baroness in all her glory and splendor. She is not crazed, 
 as I feared this morning, when she sent me all her ornaments 
 and fine dresses and laces, with a note, sealed with black, in- 
 scribed upon it, 'Will of the Baroness Ebenstreit von Leu- 
 then.' I opened it, and read: 'I give to my mother my 
 precious ornaments, laces, and dresses, to secure to her the 
 pension which she has lost. — Marie. ' I came here to learn if 
 
REVENGE FULFILLED. 405 
 
 my daughter were dead, and what the conclusion of this lost 
 pension may be, and I find — " 
 
 "Yon find the confirmation of all that I wrote to you," 
 replied Marie, coldly. "Baron Ebenstreit von Leuthen is 
 ruined. I have secured to you, in the sum which my jewels 
 and laces will bring you, the annuity, so that you have not 
 lost the money promised you for your daughter, and the mar- 
 riage you have arranged has at least borne good fruit to you." 
 
 " You are a cruel, ungrateful child," cried the mother. " I 
 have long known it, and rejected you from my heart, and 
 from all shame I will yet protect the name you bear. I have 
 just seen a sign in the Friedrich-strasse, 'Flower manufactory 
 of Marie von Leuthen.' What does this mean? Terrified, I 
 stared speechless at these fearful words, and at the busy work- 
 men preparing the house." 
 
 "I will explain it to you," cried Marie, with radiant mien. 
 " I have again become the flower-maker, and beg your favor, 
 Countess von Moltke, Frau von Morien, and all the other 
 ladies. I am free, and no longer the wife of a hated hus- 
 band — no longer the distinguished and wealthy woman. All 
 delusion and mockery have vanished. The costly dress and 
 jewels that I now wear I will cast off from me as the last sou- 
 venir of the past." 
 
 Unclasping the diamond necklace and bracelets, she handed 
 them to her mother, saying: "Take them, and also this 
 dress, the last finery I possess." She unloosed the band, and 
 the long white satin train fell at her feet. Emerging from it 
 as from a silvery cloud, she stood before them in a simple 
 white dress, as she was clothed in her girlhood. " Take them 
 all," she joyfully cried. "Take them, mother, it is all past. 
 I am now myself again. Farewell, witnesses of this scene ! I 
 now quit your circle; and you, my mother, I forgive you; 
 may the thoughts of your unhappy child never trouble you, 
 waking or sleeping; may you forget that your daughter lives, 
 and is wretched. Eevenge has not softened my grief, or re- 
 moved your curse from my head!" 
 
406 OLD FEITZ AND THE NEW ERA. 
 
 "I will lift it off your brow, Marie!" cried Moritz, sud- 
 denly appearing from the window-niche, with beaming face 
 and outstretched arms, approaching Marie, who, surprised and 
 alarmed, retreated. "Oh, noble, courageous woman, for- 
 give me that I have been an unbidden witness to this scene, 
 though by this means I now clearly recognize your strength of 
 mind, and elevation of soul, and the wrong that I have com- 
 mitted in doubting and cursing you during these four years 
 of gloom and despair. I bow before you, Marie, and implore 
 you, upon my knees, to forgive me all the cruel, harsh words 
 that I have uttered — that I have dared as a wretched fool to 
 doubt you in this long night of despair. The day is dawning 
 again upon us ; a new sun will yet cheer us with its rays. Do 
 not turn from me, but look at me, and grant me forgiveness. 
 — My dear friend and father, speak for me, for you know 
 what I have suffered. Beg of her to forgive me." 
 
 "Marie," said the venerable old man, approaching her, 
 gently putting his arm around her, " God has willed that you, 
 my poor, long-tried child, should pass through a season of 
 extreme sorrow. You are now released, and all that belonged 
 to you has vanished!" 
 
 As he spoke, he signed to the guests to withdraw. Many 
 had already escaped the painful scene by the side-door. 
 
 Marie was now alone in the magnificent apartment, with 
 Herr Gedicke and Moritz. She still stood, with concealed 
 face, in the centre of the room. 
 
 "Oh, Marie," implored Moritz, "hide not your dear face 
 from me ! Read in mine the deep grief of the past and the 
 bliss of the future. I thank God that this unnatural union 
 is severed, and that you are free. Be courageous to the end !" 
 Moritz impetuously drew her hand away, revealing her tearful 
 countenance, as her head sank upon his shoulder. " Can you 
 not forgive me, Marie?" he cried, with deep emotion. "We 
 have both wandered through a waste of grief, and now ap- 
 proach life radiant with happiness. Oh, speak to me, Mariej 
 can you not love me ana forgive me?" 
 
REVENGE FULFILLED. 407 
 
 She gazed into his eyes, and in their depths read that which 
 gradually softened her hardened features, and caused a smile 
 to play upon her lip. " I love you dearly, devotedly ; let this 
 be our parting word. Go forth into the world, Moritz ; my 
 affection will follow you whithersoever you wander, and my 
 soul will be true to you through all eternity, though we are 
 forever separated. The poor wife, with her dismal retrospec- 
 tions, must not cast a shadow upon your future. Go, my 
 beloved — Italy awaits you, and art will console you !" 
 
 " Follow me, dear Marie ; only by your side am I happy. 
 You are free and independent," cried Moritz. 
 
 "Oh, father," cried Marie, leaning upon the venerable old 
 man, " explain to him that I am still the wife of that hated 
 man!" 
 
 " She is right, Philip; do not urge her further. She must 
 first be legally separated, and this weary heart must have 
 time to recover its wonted calm. Go to Italy, and confide 
 your future and happiness to my care. Marie has lost a 
 mother, but she shall find a father in me. I will watch over 
 her until your return." 
 
 Just then the door opened, and Trade entered. "Every 
 thing is ready ; all the things which used to stand in the little 
 garret-room are packed and sent to the manufactory. Shall 
 we go, too, dear child?" 
 
 "Yes," she cried, embracing the faithful old woman. 
 "Farewell, Philip— Italy calls you!" 
 
 " I will go, but when I return will you not be my wife?" 
 
 Marie gazed at Moritz, radiant with happiness, saying: 
 " The answer is engraven upon my heart. Return, and then 
 I will joyfully respond to your love before God and man!" 
 
 (41) 
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