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!”