THE LEGITIMATE WIFE.
The Prince von Reuss, Henry XIV., Austrian ambassador at Berlin, had
died an hour ago. A painful disease had confined him to his bed for
weeks, and Marianne Meier had nursed him during this time with the
greatest love and devotion. She had never left his bedside, and no one
except herself, the physicians, and a few servants had been permitted
to enter the sick-room. The brothers and nephews of the prince, who
had come to Berlin in order to see their dying relative once more,
had vainly solicited this favor. The physicians had told them that the
suffering prince was unable to bear any excitement, there being great
danger that immediate death would be the consequence of a scene between
them.
The prince, moreover, had sent his trusted valet de chambre to his
brother, and informed him, even if he were entirely well, he would not
accept the visits of a brother who had shown him so little fraternal
love, and caused him so much grief by opposing his faithful and beloved
friend Marianne Meier in the most offensive and insulting manner.
The distinguished relatives of the prince, therefore, had to content
themselves with watching his palace from afar, and with bribing a few of
his servants to transmit to them hourly reports about the condition of
the patient.
And now Prince Henry XIV. was dead, and his brother was his successor
and heir, the prince having left no legitimate offspring. It was
universally believed that he had never been married, and that his
immense fortune, his estates and titles, would devolve on his brother.
It is true there was still that mistress of his, fair Marianne Meier, to
whom the prince, in his sentimental infatuation, had paid the honors
of a legitimate wife. But, of course, she had no claims whatever to the
inheritance; it would be an act of generosity to leave her in possession
of the costly presents the prince had made to her, and to pay her a
small pension.
The prince had hardly closed his eyes, therefore, and the doctors
had just pronounced him dead, when his brother, now Prince Henry XV.,
accompanied by a few lawyers, entered the palace of the deceased in
order to take possession of his property, and to have the necessary
seals applied to the doors. However, to give himself at least a
semblance of brotherly love, the prince desired first to repair to
the death-room, and to take a last leave of the deceased. But in the
anteroom he met the two footmen of his brother, who dared to stop his
passage, telling him that no one was allowed to enter.
“And who dares to issue such orders?” asked the prince, without stopping
a moment.
“Madame has done so,” said the first valet de chambre. “Madame wants to
be alone with the remains of her husband.”
The prince shrugged his shoulders, and, followed by the legal gentlemen,
he walked to the door, which he vainly tried to open.
“I believe that woman has locked the door,” said the prince, angrily.
“Yes, sir, madame has locked the door,” said the valet de chambre;
“she does not want to be disturbed in her grief by mere visits of
condolence.”
“Well, let us leave her, then, to her grief,” exclaimed the prince, with
a sarcastic smile. “Come, gentlemen, let us attend to our business. Let
us take an inventory of the furniture in the several rooms and then seal
them. You may be our guide, valet.”
But the valet de chambre shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.
“Pardon me, sir, that is impossible. His highness, our late prince and
master, several days ago, when he felt that his end was drawing near,
caused every room to be locked and sealed by the first attache of the
legation in the presence of all the members of the embassy. The keys to
all the rooms, however, were handed by order of the prince to madame,
his wife.”
The new prince, Henry XV., turned somewhat uneasily to the legal
gentlemen.
“Have we a right to open the doors forcibly?”
“No, that would be contrary to law,” said one of the lawyers, in a low
voice. “The late prince has doubtless left some directions in relation
to this matter and intrusted them to the officers of the legation. Your
highness ought to apply to those gentlemen.”
“Is the first attache of the legation, Baron Werdern, in the palace?”
said the prince to the valet de chambre.
“No, your highness, he has just gone out with a few other gentlemen of
the legation to request the attendance of two officers of the law, that
the will may be opened and read in their presence.”
“My brother has made a will, then?” asked the prince, in a somewhat
frightened tone.
“Yes, your highness, and he laid it, in the presence of every member of
the legation, of two officers of the law, and of every servant, three
days ago, in a strong box, the key of which he handed to the officers of
the law, when the box was deposited in the archives of the legation.”
“And why did Baron Werdern go now for the officers of the law?”
“In order to request their attendance in the palace, the late prince
having left the verbal order that his will should be opened two hours
after his death. The baron was going to invite your highness likewise to
be present.”
“Well, let us wait here for the arrival of the gentlemen,” said Prince
Henry XV., shrugging his shoulders. “It seems a little strange to me,
however, that I must wait here in the anteroom like a supplicant. Go and
announce my visit to madame!”
The valet de chambre bowed and left the room. The prince called the two
lawyers to his side. “What do you think of this whole matter?” he asked,
in a low voice.
The two representatives of the law shrugged their shoulders.
“Your highness, every thing seems to have been done here legally. We
must wait for the return of the gentlemen and for the opening of the
will.”
The valet de chambre now reentered the room, and approached the prince.
“Madame sends her respects to the prince, and begs him to excuse her
inability to admit her brother-in-law just now, as she is dressing
at the present moment. She will have the honor to salute her gracious
brother-in-law at the ceremony.”
“Does that woman call myself her gracious brother-in-law?” asked the
prince, with an air of the most profound contempt, turning his back to
the valet de chambre. “We will wait here, then, gentlemen,” he added,
turning to the lawyers. “It seems that woman intends to take a petty
revenge at this moment for the contempt with which I have always treated
her. I shall know, however, how to chastise her for it, and--”
“Hush, your highness,” whispered one of the lawyers, “they are coming!”
In fact, the large folding-doors were opened at that moment, and on a
catafalque, hung with black cloth, the remains of the prince were lying
in state; on both sides of the catafalque large tapers were burning in
heavy silver chandeliers.
Prince Henry, awed by this solemn scene, walked forward, and the grave
countenance of his brother, with whom he had lived so long in discord,
and whom he had not seen for many years, filled his heart with
uneasiness and dismay.
He approached the room, followed by the legal gentlemen, with
hesitating, noiseless steps. On the threshold of the door there now
appeared the first attache of the legation, Baron Werdern, who, bowing
deeply, invited the prince whisperingly to come in.
The prince walked in, and on crossing the threshold, it seemed to him as
if his brother’s corpse had moved, and as if his half-opened eyes were
fixed upon him with a threatening expression.
The prince averted his eyes from the corpse in dismay and saluted the
gentlemen standing around a table covered with black cloth. Two large
chandeliers, with burning tapers, a strong box, and writing-materials,
had been placed upon this table; on one side, two arm-chairs, likewise
covered with black cloth, were to be seen.
The baron conducted the prince to one of these arm-chairs, and invited
him to sit down. Prince Henry did so, and then looked anxiously at
the officers of the law, who were standing at the table in their black
robes, and behind whom were assembled all the members of the legation,
the physicians, and the servants of the late prince.
A long pause ensued. Then, all at once, the folding-doors opened, and
the prince’s steward appeared on the threshold.
“Her highness the Princess Dowager von Reuss,” he said, in a loud,
solemn voice, and Marianne’s tall, imposing form entered the room. She
was clad in a black dress with a long train; a black veil, fastened
above her head on a diadem, surrounded her noble figure like a dark
cloud, and in this cloud beamed her expansive, thoughtful forehead, and
her large flaming eyes sparkled. Her features were breathing the
most profound and majestic tranquillity; and when she now saluted the
gentlemen with a condescending nod, her whole bearing was so impressive
and distinguished that even Prince Henry was unable to remain
indifferent, and he rose respectfully from his arm-chair.
Marianne, however, paid no attention to him, but approached the remains
of her husband. With inimitable grace she knelt down on one side of the
catafalque. The priest who had entered with her knelt down on the other.
Both of them muttered fervent prayers for the deceased. Marianne then
arose, and, bending over the corpse, imprinted a long kiss upon the
forehead of her departed husband.
“Farewell, my husband!” she said, in her full, melodious voice, and then
turned around and stepped toward the table. “Without deigning to glance
at the prince, she sat down in the arm-chair.”
“I request the officers of the law now to open the strong box,” she
said, in an almost imperious voice.
One of the officers handed the key to Baron Werdern; the latter opened
the strong box, and took from it a sealed paper, which he gave to the
officer.
“Do you recognize the paper as the same yourself locked in this strong
box?” she asked. “Is it the same which his highness the late Prince von
Reuss, Henry XIV., handed to you?”
“Yes, it is the same,” said the two officers; “it is the will of the
late prince.”
“And you know that his highness ordered us to open it immediately after
his death, and to promulgate its contents. Proceed, therefore, according
to the instructions of the deceased.”
One of the officers broke the seal, and now that he unfolded the paper,
Marianne turned her head toward the prince, and fixed her burning eyes
piercingly upon his countenance.
The officer commenced reading the will. First came the preamble, to be
found in every will, and then the officer read in a louder voice, as
follows:
“In preparing to appear before the throne of the Lord, I feel especially
called upon to return my most heart-felt thanks, in this public manner,
to my wife, Princess Marianne, nee Meier, for the constancy, love, and
devotion which she has shown to me during our whole married life, and
for the surpassing patience and self-abnegation with which she nursed me
during my last sickness. I deem myself especially obliged to make
this acknowledgment, inasmuch as my wife, in her true love for me, has
suffered many undeserved aspersions and insults, because, in accordance
with my wishes, she kept our marriage secret, and in consequence had to
bear the sneers of evil-disposed persons, and the insults of malicious
enemies. But she is my lawful wife before God and man, and she is fully
entitled to assume the name of a Princess Dowager von Reuss. I hereby
expressly authorize her to do so, and, by removing the secret that has
been observed during my life in relation to our marriage, I authorize
my wife to assume the title and rank due to her, and hereby command my
brother, as well as his sons and the other members of my family, to pay
to the Princess Dowager von Reuss, nee Meier, the respect and deference
due to her as the widow of the late head of the family, and to which
she is justly entitled by her virtue, her blameless conduct, her
respectability, beauty, and amiability. The Princess Dowager von Reuss
is further authorized to let her servants wear the livery and color of
my house, to display the coat-of-arms of the princes von Reuss on her
carriages, and to enjoy the full privileges of her rank. If my brother
Henry, the heir of my titles, should have any doubts as to her rights in
this regard, the officer reading my will is requested to ask him
whether or not he desires to obtain further evidence in relation to the
legitimacy of my marriage.”
“Does your highness require any further evidence?” asked the officer,
interrupting the reading of the will.
“I do,” said the prince, who had listened to the reading of the will
with a pale and gloomy mien.
“Here is that evidence,” said the priest, beckoning the sexton, who
stood on the threshold of the door. The latter approached the priest,
and handed him a large volume bound in black morocco.
“It is the church register, in which I have entered all the marriages,
christenings, and funeral masses performed in the chapel of the Austrian
embassy,” said the priest. “On this page you find the minutes of the
marriage of the Prince von Reuss, Henry XIV., and Miss Marianne Meier.
The ceremony took place two years ago. I have baptized the princess
myself, and thereby received her into the pale of the holy Catholic
Church, and I have likewise performed the rite of marriage on the
occasion referred to. I hereby certify that the princess is the lawful
wife of the late prince, as is testified by the minutes entered on the
church register. The marriage was performed in the chapel, and in the
presence of witnesses, who have signed the minutes, like myself.”
“I witnessed the marriage,” said Baron Werdern, “and so did the military
counsellor Gentz, who, if your highness should desire further testimony,
will be ready to corroborate our statements.”
“No,” said the prince, gloomily, “I require no further testimony. I am
fully satisfied of the truth of your statements, and will now pay
my respects to my sister-in-law, the Princess Dowager von Reuss, nee
Meier.”
He bowed, with a sarcastic smile, which, for a moment, caused the blood
to rush to Marianne’s pale cheeks, and then carelessly leaned back into
his arm-chair.
“Be kind enough to proceed,” he said, turning to the officer. The latter
took up the will again and read its several sections and clauses.
The prince bequeathed his palace, with every thing in it, to his
wife Marianne, and likewise his carriages, his horses, and the family
diamonds he had inherited from his mother. The remainder of his
considerable property he left to his brother, asking him to agree with
the Princess Marianne on a pension corresponding with her rank and
position in society. Then followed some legacies and pensions for the
old servants of his household, a few gifts to the poor, and last
the appropriation of a sum for which a mass was to be read on every
anniversary of his death, for the peace of his soul. The ceremony was
over. The officers of the law and the members of the embassy had left
the death-room, and on a sign from Marianne the servants had also
withdrawn.
The prince had exchanged a few words in a low voice with his two
lawyers, whereupon they likewise had left the room. No one except the
brother and the wife of the deceased remained now in this gloomy room,
illuminated by the flickering tapers. Marianne, however, seemed to take
no notice of the presence of her brother-in-law; she had approached the
corpse again, and gazed at it with the most profound emotion.
“I thank you, Henry,” she said, loudly and solemnly. “I thank you from
the bottom of my heart; you have given back to me my honor; you have
revenged me upon your haughty relatives, and upon the sneering world.”
“Do not thank him, respected sister-in-law, for he has left you poor,”
said the prince, approaching her, and contemplating her with a freezing
smile. “My brother has made you a princess, it is true, but he has not
given you the means to live as a princess. He has bequeathed to you
this palace, with its costly furniture; he has bequeathed to you his
carriages and diamonds; but a palace and furniture are no estates, and
in order to keep carriages one has to feed men and horses. It is true,
you can sell the palace and the diamonds, and obtain for them several
hundred thousand florins. That sum would be amply sufficient for a
person leading a retired life, but it is very little for one who desires
to keep up a princely household, and to live in the style becoming a
lady of your beauty and social position. My brother has foreseen all
this, and he indirectly gave us a chance to come to an understanding,
by asking me to agree with you on a pension to be paid you. Hence I ask
you, how much do you demand? How high will be the sum for which you
will sell me your mourning veil, your name, and your title of princess
dowager? For you doubtless anticipate, madame, that I do not propose to
acknowledge you publicly as my sister-in-law, and to receive a--Marianne
Meier among the members of my family. Tell me your price, therefore,
madame.”
Marianne looked at him with flaming eyes, a deep blush of anger mantling
her cheeks. “Prince von Reuss,” she said, proudly, “you will have to
permit the world to call me your sister-in-law. I am your sister-in-law,
and I shall prove to the world and to you that it is unnecessary to have
been born under a princely canopy in order to live, think, and act
like a princess. My husband has rewarded me in this hour for years of
suffering and humiliation. Do you believe that my reward is for sale for
vile money? And if you should offer me millions, I should reject them
if, in return, I were to lead a nameless, disreputable, and obscure
existence. I will sooner die of starvation as a Princess Dowager von
Reuss than live in opulence as Marianne Meier. This is my last word; and
now, sir, begone! Do not desecrate this room by your cold and egotistic
thoughts, and by your heartless calculations! Honor the repose of the
dead and the grief of the living. Begone!”
She proudly turned away from him, and bent once more over the corpse.
While she was doing so her black veil, with a gentle rustle, fell down
over her face and wrapped her, as well as the corpse, as in a dark mist,
so that the two forms seemed to melt into one.
The prince felt a shudder pervading his frame, and the presence of the
corpse embarrassed him.
“I will not disturb you now in your grief, madame,” he said; “I hope
your tears will flow less copiously as soon as the funeral is over, and
I shall then send my lawyer, for the purpose of treating further with
you.”
He bowed, and hastened to the door. She seemed neither to have heard
his words, nor to have noticed that he was withdrawing. She was still
bending over the remains of her husband, the black cloud surrounding her
and the corpse.