The Electress Charlotte Elizabeth closed the little side door which led from her private apartments, and with a friendly nod of the head and tender glances approached her husband, who advanced slowly to meet her.

“Elizabeth,” he said, thoughtfully shaking his head, “I see from your countenance that you have something special to say to me. Your brown eyes shine to-day unusually bright and clear, and on your lips rests a happy, tender smile, such as, alas! I no longer observe often in my wife.”

“Gladly would I have smiled and looked cheerful, George, but have lacked the opportunity. You know well that we have seldom seen a blue sky above us; it has been always over-cast by gloomy clouds. But I beg of you, my lord and husband, to resume your seat, for I see, alas! that your foot is paining you sadly. The fatigues of travel have injured it, and it would indeed be wise if you would at last determine to resort to active remedies, and to that end allow a couple of the learned Frankfort doctors to be sent for.”

With an expression almost of alarm the Elector looked upon his wife, who had seated herself on a stool beside him, and soothingly and tenderly laid her hand upon his cheek.

“You have something on your mind, Elizabeth, something surely,” he said, “and it is nothing which can give me pleasure, else you would not use so much circumlocution; but speak it out frankly.”

“How?” asked the Electress, “must I have some special object in view, when I smile upon you, and fondle you a little? Know you not that my soul is full of tenderness toward you, and that my heart is ever speaking to you, even when the lips utter not aloud what the heart is whispering within?”

“Elizabeth!” cried the Elector, “now I know it; you have received tidings from our son, and vexatious tidings! Yes, yes, that is it! I know those tender looks and beaming eyes; it is not my wife that I recognize in them: it is the mother of our Electoral Prince, Frederick William.”

“Ah! what an acute observer you are, George, and how well you understand how to read my countenance! Well, now, you shall have it in all candor. I have news from our dear Electoral Prince.”

“He notifies us, I trust, that he has followed our instructions strictly and to the letter, and is now on his way home?” asked the Elector, gazing upon his wife with anxious, inquiring glances.

But Elizabeth avoided his look.

“What!” cried George William angrily, “you do not answer me! You can not, therefore, respond to my questions with a joyful Yes! Can it be possible, then, that the Electoral Prince has disregarded my commands, that

“Do not allow yourself to be so excited, George,” interrupted the Electress. “First hear his motives and excuses before you grow angry with our son.”

“From all those motives and excuses I shall only gather that he will not come,” cried the Elector.

“Say rather that he can not come,” returned Elizabeth, while she gently forced back her husband, who in his excitement and impatience had made an effort to rise. “Yes, I have letters from The Hague, my dear husband, letters from both our uncle, the Prince of Orange, and my mother, and I dare affirm that these letters have given me heartfelt joy, inasmuch as my uncle the Stadtholder, as well as my mother, write of our dear son that he is an accomplished Prince, in whom one may reasonably rejoice, and whom we may be proud to call our son. You know, George, that during these three years of his sojourn in Holland, we have ever had good and complimentary accounts of him. His tutor, von Kalkhun, has often reported to us with what diligence our son applied himself to his studies at Leyden, and that he had become quite a learned Prince, in whom even the professors themselves took peculiar delight. Then when he had finished his course of studies at Leyden and went to Arnheim, where he met with the Princes William of Orange and Maurice of Nassau, they could not sufficiently laud the handsome appearance, lofty spirit, and noble heart of our young Electoral Prince.”

“Truly,” muttered the Elector, “one could infer from your discourse that you are the mother of this highly praised lad. It is an old experience that mothers always find something remarkable in their sons, and if they were to be believed, then would the son of every mother be no ordinary specimen of mankind, but a phoenix among all other men.”

“But, my well-beloved Elector, I have nevertheless told nothing but the truth. Our son has been very successful in his studies these last three years in Holland, and has become a very learned and accomplished young man, who is well skilled in Latin and Greek, besides speaking German, French, and Italian in a masterly way. But most especially has he cultivated himself in a knowledge of the science of war, and the Princes of Orange and Nassau certify that he will assuredly become hereafter a great general and warrior, so learnedly and wisely does he even now discourse upon the subject.”

“Why do you say all this, Elizabeth?” asked the Elector. “Why do you praise our son, but that you are conscious that he is deserving of censure, and has sinned grievously against us in not having so hastened his return home as to be here now instead of his letters? But that he has already set out on the journey home I can not for a moment doubt, and bitterly should he experience my fatherly wrath if it were not so. Just tell me in short, concise words, when does my son, the Electoral Prince, come?”

“My dear lord and husband,” said the Electress with reluctance and visible embarrassment, “would it not be best for you to speak on this subject with the chamberlain, Balthazar von Schlieben

“What!” cried the Elector, springing from his seat “what! Is Schlieben here again Schlieben, whom we sent to The Hague in order that he might conduct our son hither? He has come back without the Electoral Prince?”

“Yes, my husband, he has come back,” replied the Electress, winding her arms tenderly around her husband’s neck. “I entreat you most earnestly not to be angry before you have heard the reasons why the Electoral Prince does not come. I entreat you to admit Balthazar von Schlieben, and have an account rendered to you by him.”

“Yes!” exclaimed the Elector, vehemently “yes, I will see him. He shall render me an account. Where is he? They must send for him directly; he must be summoned to me immediately!”

“It is not necessary, George; he stands without there in the little passage leading to my apartments. I shall cause him to enter immediately. You must promise me first, though, my beloved husband, that you will listen to him without reproaches and anger, and that you will say nothing in his presence against the only son given us by Heaven.”

“I shall make no promises that I can not keep,” cried the Elector warmly. “I will speak with Schlieben. He must come in. Ho! Chamberlain Balthazar von Schlieben, come in, I charge you to come in.”

The little arras door opened and disclosed to view a slender, tall young man, in gold-laced blue uniform, with red facings.

“At the command of your Electoral Grace,” he said, making a reverential obeisance.

“Come hither, Schlieben,” cried George William, “close up to me, that I may see if you are actually he who dares to return here without the one after whom I sent him. So! Look me straight in the face, and tell me why I sent you to Holland three months ago, and what was your errand there?”

“Your Electoral Highness, I was sent by your grace to Holland, in order that I might conduct hither his Highness the Electoral Prince.”

“Well, then, where is the Electoral Prince?”

“Your Electoral Highness, he is at present still at The Hague, and most urgently and most submissively he beseeches your Electoral Highness through me that he may be permitted to remain there at least for the winter.”

“He is yet at The Hague!” cried the Elector. “He ventures thus to brave me to oppose himself to my strict injunctions? Or have you not handed him my letter, Schlieben? Or have you not repeated to him all that I said and urged you by word of mouth to convey to him? Did you not inform him that I ordered him, under penalty of my princely and fatherly displeasure, to set out and journey hither in the speediest manner possible?”

“Your Electoral Highness, I carried out exactly every command given me by your highness, and the Electoral Prince surely would not have delayed an instant gratifying the demands of his revered father, if many concurring circumstances had not made it impossible for him. The Electoral Prince has himself more narrowly pointed out and explained these in this letter, which he has charged me to deliver to your highness.”

And with a deep inclination the chamberlain extended a large sealed packet to his Sovereign.

George William took it with angry impatience, and so curious was he to read the contents of the packet that he hastily tore off the cover, the sooner to arrive at its purport. A closely written sheet of fine paper was within the cover, and the Elector unfolded it with eager hands. But after looking at this a long while, he shook his head passionately, and the flush of anger on his countenance grew yet darker.

“What sort of new-fashioned, disrespectful handwriting is this?” growled George William. “This is not at all as if it had been written by a prince’s son, but by a scholar who had carefully sought to crowd as many lines as possible into one page in order to save paper. A prince should never renounce or be unmindful of his own dignity. But it is unbecoming, indeed, and unworthy of a prince to write such a fine hand, as if he were a scholar or a writing master. I can not read these small intricate characters. Read the letter to me, Electress, in short, share it with me from the first.”

The Electress took the sheet held out to her, and read it over with hurried glances. “The Electoral Prince uses the most humble, submissive words,” she said, finally. “It is just the letter of an obedient and respectful son, who is all anxiety to obey the commands of his father, and who is deeply grieved that he must nevertheless go contrary to them.”

“Must?” cried George William. “Be pleased to tell me why he must.”

“Only hear, my lord and husband, what the Prince writes about it,” said the Electress, and with loud voice she read:

“’There are various circumstances which compel me to prolong my stay in this country. In the first place, Admiral Tromp is here, and he is very useful in aiding me to arrive at a more perfect knowledge of nautical affairs, as, also, the condescension and kindness of my uncle, the Prince of Orange, that great general, affords me a glorious opportunity of perfecting myself in the science of war. And I think that, the more I learn and study here, the more capable will I become of serving hereafter under your highness. But, apart from these things, it would be exceedingly difficult at this season of the year and under the present conditions, to make the long journey from The Hague to Prussia; most probably it would consume a half year, and the expenses would be enormous, while next summer I might easily accomplish the journey in two months. The voyage by sea would be next to impossible during this present winter on account of the violent storms, which might occasion tedious delays. Moreover, I dread the privateers of Dunkirk, against which the Dutch convoy could hardly protect me. But yet more formidable seems the journey by land in the existing state of the times. In Westphalia the Hessians and Swedes rove about, rendering the roads unsafe. Even should I take my way over the flats, along the strand, yet the Swedish and Hessian troops could easily catch up with me, and overpower the escort promised me for safe-conduct by the counts of East Friesland and Oldenburg and the Bishop of Bremen. Or should I bend my course through Upper Germany and Franconia, there, again, other hindrances present themselves, for throughout all these provinces reigns the greatest wretchedness men even devouring one another for hunger. On that account my uncle, the Prince Stadtholder himself, has opposed my undertaking the journey, considering it too dangerous. A deputation from the duchy of Cleves has also come and begged me to postpone my departure, since they had petitioned your grace anew to leave me in the duchy of Cleves as their stadtholder. And if all this were not so, there is yet another reason which must prevent my departure from here. But this I dare not commit to writing, for a letter may be so easily lost, and to read such a thing would furnish our enemies an occasion of rejoicing and triumph. Therefore I have told all to young Balthazar von Schlieben, and he will in my name faithfully and most reverentially communicate to you, your Electoral Highness and my most gracious father, the true and principal cause which prevents my setting forth from Holland.’”

“Well, speak then!” cried the Elector impatiently. “Speak, Schlieben what is it?”

“Will not my lord and husband first hear the Electoral Prince’s letter to the end?” asked the Electress. “Here follow some cordial, affectionate words, and assurances of the most filial respect and most submissive love.”

“Can I value them, yes, can I value any of them all?” answered George William passionately. “When we will prove nothing by deeds, then we make speeches, and when we are disobedient in act, then we asseverate with words of love and reverence. Speak, then, Balthazar von Schlieben, since you have been thus commissioned by the Electoral Prince. What is this most weighty of reasons which forbids the departure of the Electoral Prince from Holland?”

“Your Electoral Highness, it is debt, it is the total want of money.”

The Elector started up as if an adder had stung him. “Debts!” he cried in thundering voice. “Want of money! Will this litany never, never cease? What a wild, extravagant life the Electoral Prince must lead to be for ever and ever wanting money, and no sooner are his debts paid than he contracts new ones!”

“Husband,” said the Electress soothingly, “it does not reflect upon the life our son leads that he is out of money, but proves that he has not received a sufficiently ample allowance. Just reflect that three years ago, when he undertook this journey to Holland, you did not give him a red cent, and that I had to give him from my little savings three thousand dollars that he might be able to travel at all. A considerable portion of this must have been expended during the tedious journey, with his retinue.”

“If any one were to listen to you, Electress, he would really suppose that the Electoral Prince had lived upon those three thousand dollars lent him by you from that time up to the present. You forget, however, that, already in the year 1636, therefore the very next year after the Electoral Prince set out upon his journey, the states at the diet of Koenigsberg voted the large sum of seven thousand dollars to the Electoral Prince for the prosecution of his studies, over which they made a great outcry even then, since the owner of each rood of land must be taxed five groschen to pay for these acquirements, bringing down, no doubt, many a curse upon his Latin and Greek. From these two sources alone, then, he has had ten thousand dollars to disburse in three years, which for so young a gentleman would surely seem sufficient. Besides, just half a year ago, on his repeated application to me for money, I sent him again one thousand dollars, insomuch as he felt himself compelled to purchase a stately equipage.”

“That was the time, husband, when our son went from Leyden to Arnheim, to reside there for a long while. There, of course, he was obliged to have a small household about him, in order to maintain the dignity of his father and his house, for there, too, dwelt the Princes of Orange and Nassau, and our son, the Electoral Prince of Brandenburg, in order not to be surpassed by them, must, like them, hold his court.”

“And unfortunately living is very expensive in Holland,” remarked the Chamberlain von Schlieben. “Your Electoral Grace had sent one thousand dollars to the Electoral Prince for the purchase of an equipage, but this sum was by no means adequate. The coach alone cost seven hundred dollars.”

“Seven hundred dollars!” cried the Elector, amazed. “How can one pay so much money for a mere wooden box?”

“If it please your highness, the coaches in Holland are not by any means wooden boxes, merely painted, varnished, and gilded a little within and without, having hard leather-covered seats. The Electoral Prince’s coach is hung within and without in red velvet and satin, for this custom and usage require of a princely personage in Holland; besides, a set of four horses must be bought, and each of these cost one hundred and forty dollars. Your Electoral Highness sees clearly, therefore, that one thousand dollars could not suffice to cover the expense, for coach and horses alone cost more than that, and now must be added the liveries and harness, besides the wages of coachman, footmen, and lackeys.”

“Yes, I see plainly that my dear son leads a stately, extravagant life,” cried the Elector. “I see well that it is high time for him to come away from there, and learn that an Elector of Brandenburg must adapt himself to his means, and, instead of riding in a coach drawn by four horses, must drive in a miserable rattle-trap pulled by two paltry beasts. It is therefore full time that the Electoral Prince were withdrawn from the scenes of his pomp and pride, and were taught again to live simply and sparingly. He must and shall return home! Finally, I am sick and tired of this eternal negotiating, this writing to and fro, and it really is high time that this should have an end. For a year already I have been in treaty with the young gentleman concerning his return home, and last of all dispatched my chamberlain to enjoin it upon him as my most decided and express will that the Prince come home, and start forthwith. But he has an obstinate disposition, and sends the Chamberlain von Schlieben back, and tranquilly remain there, where he is so well pleased, living as he does in pomp and luxury, while I have hardly enough money to live along scantily and with the strictest economy.”

“But only consider, my dear husband,” said the Electress persuasively “only consider that it is not from high-mindedness or disobedience that the Electoral Prince tarries in Holland. Indeed, he can not get away while he has no money, and on that very account most urgently appeals to the kindest of all fathers, through the Chamberlain von Schlieben, reverentially begging and beseeching him to extricate him from his difficulties by sending him money enough to pay his debts, and to enable him to travel as becomes his rank.”

“Money, and always money!” cried the Elector, almost in a tone of despair. “O God! what a tormented, unhappy man I am! Every one has something to crave of me, and no one anything to give me! When I demand of the states, provinces, cities, citizens, and peasants funds to defray my expenses, then from all sides I hear: ’We have no money; we are so reduced that we can pay no taxes.’ And still all these states, provinces, cities, citizens, and peasants demand of me money and support, succor and alms, although they know that I have nothing, for they give me nothing. Money! money! That word has been my tormentor and enemy ever since I began to rule; sleeping and waking that word has pursued me. From all officers, from all subalterns I have heard it, as often as they came near me, and now comes my dear son, too, afflicting and harassing his poor, unfortunate father with this dreaded word. But I shall not suffer him to employ this hated word in his own behalf and turn it against me for his own advantage. I shall not allow him to remain longer at The Hague under pretext that he lacks money to bring him home. He shall have money, yes, he shall have it. I shall see to procuring it. It must be done.”

“My dear lord and husband,” besought the Electress, “I entreat you not to be so much excited, for it might injure you.”

“And I entreat you to leave me now, Lady Electress,” said George William impatiently. “It is useless to exhort one to tranquillity and composure, who has so much reason to be roused and provoked. But this fine son of ours shall pay for the vexation and torture that he has prepared for me. He may reckon upon my setting it down to his account, and not allowing myself to be cheated by empty speeches and by fine actions in word alone. You are dismissed, Sir Chamberlain von Schlieben! Badly enough have you fulfilled my commission, and you may be sure that never again shall you be selected as our messenger and legate!”

“Permit me, my husband, to put in a good word for poor Schlieben!” cried the Electress. “He had no power to bring the Electoral Prince away by force, just as the Electoral Prince himself has no power to leave of his own free will. The whole difficulty consists in our son’s having no money.”

“Yes, and right welcome is it to him, this time,” said the Elector with a bitter laugh. “As he has no money, he continually contracts more and more debts, thereby rendering the payment more difficult, and the longer the delay the longer can the Prince remain in Holland, leading a merry life there. But I shall make an end of it, an end! Schwarzenberg shall come, and he must and will procure me the means. Excuse me, Lady Electress, I have business pressing business.”

“I withdraw, my lord and husband,” said Elizabeth, bowing ceremonially, and, turning to the Chamberlain von Schlieben, who was just sliding toward the door with pale, disturbed countenance, she continued: “Sir Chamberlain, follow me! You must tell me more about my dear Electoral Prince and all my dear relatives, whom you have seen and spoken with at The Hague.”

The countenance of the chamberlain lighted up, and with a grateful glance he followed the Electress through the side door into her own apartments.

The Elector was alone. His head sank upon his breast, and he stood deeply absorbed in thought. But after a pause he slowly raised his head, and his sorrowful glance fell directly upon the portrait of his father, John Sigismund, whose sad, pale face was turned toward him, with its dark, melancholy eyes.

“Poor father!” murmured the Elector with a heavy sigh, “I understand quite well and easily conceive why you voluntarily laid down your power and retired from the government before death had sent his summons. An Elector of Brandenburg has by no means a comfortable, pleasant life of it; and a sorely oppressive inheritance have I received from you, so that I, too, might despair, and do as you have done. I, too, might rid myself of the hard task of seeming to be an Elector and reigning sovereign, while I am naught but a poor, much-tormented man, who has more titles than lands, more debts than money, and whose nation consists not of obedient subjects but of obstinate brawlers, a mob of would-be politicians and starved-out people. No! no!” he cried, interrupting himself, “no! I shall not give my son so much joy. I shall not do him the pleasure of yielding up the power to him, and being thrown aside myself like a squeezed lemon. No, Elector I shall remain, and my lordly son shall submit to the paternal will, and return home. Schwarzenberg must provide me with the means. He is the very man for this he understands it!”

The Elector reached out again for his silver whistle and sounded a shrill call. Immediately one of the outer doors was opened, admitting a lackey. The Elector had already opened his mouth, to issue his commands, when he suddenly grew dumb and looked at the lackey with a still more clouded brow.

“Fellow,” he said angrily, “how dare you appear in this presence with such a dress? With your short bearskin jacket and patched hose, you present such a pitiably mean appearance that I am actually ashamed to behold you.”

“Pardon, your Electoral Grace,” stammered the servant with downcast air, “I can not help it, and I am woefully ashamed myself that I must dare to come thus before my most gracious lord the Elector. A heavy misfortune has happened to my livery coat. I left it hanging on a nail, and tore a fearfully large three-cornered rent in it, on which the court tailor says he will have to stitch a whole day, and even then it may not be presentable after all. The livery coat, therefore, is at the tailor’s, which is the reason why I must appear in my jacket.”

“You should have put on another coat,” cried the Elector, impatiently, “for it is contrary to respect that you should enter in such shabby style.”

“Another coat?” asked the lackey, with an expression of the highest astonishment. “Pardon, your Electoral Highness, I have only that one coat!”

“What!” exclaimed the Elector. “Only one coat! Did I not order that new livery coats should be made for you lackeys before our removal from Koenigsberg?”

“It was done, your Electoral Grace, we received our new livery coats before we left Koenigsberg.”

“Well, then, where are the old ones?”

“Your Electoral Grace, the master of the wardrobe sold the old ones to the Jews at Koenigsberg, who paid him a good sum of money for them, for the old livery coats were trimmed with genuine gold lace, but the new ones are cheaper, for it is only gilt or

“Hold your tongue and begone!” cried the Elector. “If you have no coat, then from to-day I dispense with your services, and Jocelyn shall take your place.”

“Forgive me, your Electoral Highness, but Jocelyn is in confinement. The master of the wardrobe had him put in the guardhouse three days ago.”

“Wherefore then what has Jocelyn done that the master of the wardrobe should have him put into prison?”

“He was obstinate, your highness. The paymaster has not distributed to us our wages for two months, so that none of us has a groschen in his pocket. When we reached Berlin, three days ago, Jocelyn found his old mother miserably sick and well-nigh starved, for the Imperialists have thoroughly pillaged Berlin, and robbed the old woman of her last possession. She had nothing to eat, and still less could she afford to send for a doctor and buy medicines. So, in his desperation, Jocelyn went to the paymaster and begged of him his month’s wages, but was told that he could have nothing now, because the journey from Prussia here had cost so much money that all the coffers were empty; but that in the course of eight days the paymaster might be in funds again, and that then we should all have what was due us. But, on account of his old mother, Jocelyn could not wait, and so in desperation went off and sold his new livery coat to an old-clothes man, and carried the money to his mother. And for that reason, your Electoral Grace, poor Jocelyn now sits in the guardhouse.”

The Elector had turned away, and gazed from the window down into the pleasure garden, the branches of whose green trees nearly touched the windows of the apartment. He could no longer meet the glance of the lackey Conrad; he would not have him witness his mortification and the painful twitchings of his mouth. But after a while he turned again to old Conrad, who had crept softly toward the door, not venturing to go out without permission from his master.

“You see well, old man,” said the Elector confidentially, “that our affairs are not in so prosperous a condition as formerly when you entered my service, and were the body servant of the merry, cheerful young Electoral Prince. Now that Electoral Prince has become a very sad, serious, and poverty-stricken Elector, who has lived through much affliction, and must content himself, despite his glorious title, with being a poor tormented man, and therefore also a peevish man. I was once otherwise; that you know. But debts make the wildest tame and the most joyous fretful, as you see in me, old Conrad. But now listen!”

He stepped to his writing table and drew forth a long purse with meshes of green silk and gold. Carefully counting, he shook some money out of the purse into his hand and then handed it to Conrad.

“Conrad, there are twelve dollars. Do you know the Jew to whom Jocelyn sold his livery coat?”

“Yes, I know him, your highness.”

“Then go, Conrad, and buy back the coat. How much did the Jew pay for it?”

“Six dollars, your Electoral Highness.”

“Return him five dollars for it, and tell him that the dollar subtracted is by way of punishment for his having dared to purchase the coat of one of the servants belonging to the electoral household, for he must know that it is not the lackey’s but electoral property. But if the Jew ventures to grumble, then say to him that I shall have him watched and his false dealings inquired into. When you have obtained the coat, carry it to the master of the wardrobe, and tell him to release Jocelyn from the guardhouse and permit him to wear his coat again. Say to him that it is my command. And now go and attend to this matter for me.”

“Forgive me, your Electoral Grace, but I know not yet what to do with the rest of the money. When I shall have redeemed Jocelyn’s coat with five dollars, there will yet remain seven dollars besides, and I beg of your highness to point out what disposition I must make of them.”

“What wages do the lackeys receive by the month?”

“One rixdollar and four groschen, your highness!”

“That makes four dollars and sixteen groschen owing to you and Jocelyn, since the paymaster is in your debt for two months’ wages. There will still be a remainder of two dollars and eight groschen, which you must give to Jocelyn to take to his old mother, not, however, as if it came from me, but as his own gift.”

“Ah! your Electoral Highness, what a kind, gracious master you are!” cried

Conrad, with tears in his eyes. “Only extend this one act of goodness and condescension: permit your old Conrad to kiss your hand and thank you for the favor your highness has shown to Jocelyn and myself, and be not offended at your old servant for asking such a thing, since it is only out of love and hearty respect.”

“I know it, Conrad, I know it,” said the Elector, reaching out his hand to the old man, and permitting him to press it to his lips. “I know your good, faithful heart, which has never swerved from its duty these twenty years that you have been in my service. Go now, old man, and do as I have bidden you. But hear! No one need know that I have paid you and Jocelyn your month’s wages, for then they would all come to be paid by me; and the paymaster was quite right our coffers are empty, and we must take account of everything until they are filled again. Keep silent, then, both of you. I shall tell the paymaster myself that I have just meddled a little in his affairs.

“But now, hear one thing more, Conrad. Go straightway across into Broad Street, to the house of his excellency the Stadtholder in the Mark, Count von Schwarzenberg. We request his excellency to take the trouble to come immediately to us. Say from me that we have weighty business to transact with him that admits of no delay. Therefore, we entreat his excellency to come hither forthwith.”

“Pardon, your highness,” said Conrad, anxiously and confusedly; “my dresscoat is still at the court tailor’s. Must I go across in my jacket? At the Stadtholder’s everything is so fearfully fine and stately. The lackeys, too, put on such airs that an electoral lackey can not stand up to them at all; they are, besides, haughty, supercilious fellows, who think themselves very grand, and fancy they are something quite uncommon, and almost more than one of us, who are court lackeys to your highness. Would it not make the fellows rejoice to see me in this jacket and

“Never mind; go across in your jacket,” said the Elector, laughing. “Remember always that you are the servant of the master, and those spruce fellows but the lackeys of the servant, although I must say that the servant is a much richer, more magnificent man than his master. Run and bring the Stadtholder to me!”