King Rudolf and his guards far out-stripped the people who pursued
them from the city; and when they came to the skirts of the wood,
they divided themselves into four parties, since, if they went all
together, they might easily miss the fugitives whom they sought. Of
these four parties, one found nothing; another found the two horses
which the student himself, who had hidden them, failed to find; the
third party had not gone far before they caught sight of the lovers,
though the lovers did not see them; and two of them remained to watch
and, if need be, to intercept any attempted flight, while the third
rode off to find the king and bring him where Osra and the student
were, as he had commanded.
But the fourth party, with which the king was, though it did not find
the fugitives, found the embassy from the Grand Duke of Mittenheim;
and the ambassador, with all his train, was resting by the roadside,
seeming in no haste at all to reach Strelsau. When the king suddenly
rode up at great speed and came upon the embassy, an officer
that stood by the ambassador--whose name was Count Sergius of
Antheim--stooped down and whispered in his excellency's ear, upon
which he rose and advanced towards the king, uncovering his head and
bowing profoundly. For he chose to assume that the king had ridden to
meet him out of excessive graciousness and courtesy towards the Grand
Duke; so that he began, to the impatient king's infinite annoyance, to
make a very long and stately speech, assuring his majesty of the great
hope and joy with which his master awaited the result of the embassy;
for, said he, since the king was so zealous in his cause, his master
could not bring himself to doubt of success, and therefore most
confidently looked to win for his bride the most exalted and lovely
lady in the world, the peerless Princess Osra, the glory of the court
of Strelsau, and the brightest jewel in the crown of the king, her
brother. And having brought this period to a prosperous conclusion,
Count Sergius took breath, and began another that promised to be fully
as magnificent and not a whit less long. So that, before it was well
started, the king smote his hand on his thigh and roared:
"Heavens, man, while you're making speeches, that rascal is carrying
off my sister!"
Count Sergius, who was an elderly man of handsome presence and great
dignity, being thus rudely and strangely interrupted, showed great
astonishment and offence; but the officer by him covered his mouth
with his hand to hide a smile. For the moment that the king had spoken
these impetuous words he was himself overwhelmed with confusion; for
the last thing that he wished the Grand Duke's ambassador to know was
that the princess whom his master courted had run away that morning
with a student of the University of Strelsau. Accordingly he began,
very hastily, and with more regard for prudence than for truth, to
tell Count Sergius how a noted and bold criminal had that morning
swooped down on the princess as she rode unattended outside the city,
and carried her off--which seemed to the ambassador a very strange
story. But the king told it with great fervor, and he besought the
count to scatter his attendants all through the wood, and seek the
robber. Yet he charged them not to kill the man themselves, but to
keep him till he came. "For I have sworn to kill him with my own
hand," he cried.
Now Count Sergius, however much astonished he might be, could do
nothing but accede to the king's request, and he sent off all his
men to scour the woods, and, mounting his horse, himself set off with
them, showing great zeal in the king's service, but still thinking the
king's story a very strange one. Thus the king was left alone with his
two guards and with the officer who had smiled.
"Will you not go also, sir?" asked the king.
But at this moment a man galloped up at furious speed, crying:
"We have found them, sire, we have found them!"
"Then he hasn't five minutes to live!" cried the king in fierce joy;
and he lugged out his sword, adding: "The moment I set my eyes on him,
I will kill him. There is no need for words between me and him."
At this speech the face of the officer grew suddenly grave and
alarmed; and he put spurs to his horse, and hastened after the king,
who had at once dashed away in the direction in which the man had
pointed. But the king had got a start and kept it; so that the officer
seemed terribly frightened, and muttered to himself:
"Heaven send that he does not kill him before he knows!" And he added
some very impatient words concerning the follies of princes, and,
above all, of princes in love.
Thus, while the ambassador and his men searched high and low for
the noted robber, and the king's men hunted for the student of the
University, the king, followed by two of his guard at a distance
of about fifty yards (for his horse was better than theirs), came
straight to where Osra and her lover stood together. And a few yards
behind the guards came the officer; and he also had by now drawn his
sword. But he rode so eagerly that he overtook and passed the king's
guards, and got within thirty yards of the king by the time that the
king was within twenty of the lovers. But the king let him get no
nearer, for he dug his spurs again into his horse's side, and the
horse bounded forward, while the king cried furiously to his sister,
"Stand away from him!" The princess did not heed, but stood in front
of her lover (for the student was wholly unarmed), holding up the
little dagger in her hand. The king laughed scornfully and angrily,
thinking that Osra menaced him with the weapon, and not supposing that
it was herself for whom she destined it. And, having reached them, the
king leaped from his horse and ran at them, with his sword raised to
strike. Osra gave a cry of terror. "Mercy!" she cried. "Mercy!" But
the king had no thought of mercy, and he would certainly then and
there have killed her lover had not the officer, gaining a moment's
time by the king's dismounting, at this very instant come galloping
up; and, there being no time for any explanation, he leaned from his
saddle as he dashed by, and, putting out his hand, snatched the king's
sword away from him, just as the king was about to thrust it through
his sister's lover.
But the officer's horse was going so furiously that he could not stop
it for hard on forty yards, and he narrowly escaped splitting his head
against a great bough that hung low across the grassy path; and
he dropped first his own sword and then the king's; but at last he
brought the horse to a standstill, and, leaping down, ran back towards
where the swords lay. But at the moment the king also ran towards
them; for the fury that he had been in before was as nothing to that
which now possessed him. After his sword was snatched from him he
stood in speechless anger for a full minute, but then had turned to
pursue the man who had dared to treat him with such insult. And
now, in his desire to be at the officer, he had come very near to
forgetting the student. Just as the officer came to where the king's
sword lay, and picked it up, the king, in his turn, reached the
officer's sword and picked up that. The king came with a rush at the
officer, who, seeing that the king was likely to kill him, or he the
king, if he stood his ground, turned tail and sped away at the top of
his speed through the forest. But as he went, thinking that the time
had come for plain speaking, he looked back over his shoulder and
shouted:
"Sire, it's the Grand Duke himself!"
The king stopped short in sudden amazement.
"Is the man mad?" he asked. "Who is the Grand Duke?"
"It's the Grand Duke, sir, who is with the princess. And you would
have killed him if I had not snatched your sword," said the officer;
and he also came to a halt, but he kept a very wary eye on King
Rudolf.
"I should certainly have killed him, let him be who he will," said the
king. "But why do you call him the Grand Duke?"
The officer very cautiously approached the king, and, seeing that the
king made no threatening motion, he at last trusted himself so close
that he could speak to the king in a very low voice; and what he
said seemed to astonish, please, and amuse the king immensely. For he
clapped the officer on the back, laughed heartily, and cried:
"A pretty trick! On my life, a pretty trick!"
Now Osra and her lover had not heard what the officer had shouted to
the king, and when Osra saw her brother returning from among the trees
alone and with his sword, she still supposed that her lover must die;
and she turned and flung her arms round his neck, and clung to him for
a moment, kissing him. Then she faced the king, with a smile on her
face and the little dagger in her hand. But the king came up, wearing
a scornful smile, and he asked her:
"What is the dagger for, my wilful sister?"
"For me, if you kill him," said she.
"You would kill yourself, then, if I killed him?"
"I would not live a moment after he was dead."
"Faith, it is wonderful!" said the king with a shrug. "Then plainly,
if you cannot live without him, you must live with him. He is to be
your husband, not mine. Therefore, take him, if you will."
When Osra heard this, which indeed for joy and wonder she could hardly
believe, she dropped her knife, and, running forward, fell on her
knees before her brother, and, catching his hand, she covered it with
kisses, and her tears mingled with her kisses. But the king let her go
on, and stood over her, laughing and looking at the student. Presently
the student began to laugh also, and he had just advanced a step
towards King Rudolf, when Count Sergius of Antheim, the Grand Duke's
ambassador, came out from among the trees, riding hotly and with
great zeal after the noted robber. But no sooner did the count see the
student than he stopped his horse, leaped down with a cry of wonder,
and, running up to the student, bowed very low and kissed his hand.
So that when Osra looked round from her kissing of her brother's hand,
she beheld the Grand Duke's ambassador kissing the hand of her lover.
She sprang to her feet in wonder.
"Who are you?" she cried to the student, running in between him and
the ambassador.
"Your lover and servant," said he.
"And besides?" she said.
"Why, in a month, your husband," laughed the king, taking her lover by
the hand.
He clasped the king's hand, but turned at once to her, and said
humbly:
"Alas, I have no cottage!"
"Who are you?" she whispered to him.
"The man for whom you were ready to die, my princess. Is it not
enough?"
"Yes, it is enough," said she; and she did not repeat her question.
But the king, with a short laugh, turned on his heel, and took Count
Sergius by the arm and walked off with him; and presently they met the
officer and learned fully how the Grand Duke had come to Strelsau, and
how he had contrived to woo and win the Princess Osra, and finally to
carry her off from the palace.
It was an hour later when the whole of the two companies, that of the
king and that of the ambassador, were all gathered together again, and
had heard the story; so that when the king went to where Osra and
the Grand Duke walked together among the trees, and, taking each by
a hand, led them out, they were greeted with a great cheer; and they
mounted their horses, which the Grand Duke now found without any
difficulty--although when the need of them seemed far greater the
student could not contrive to come upon them--and the whole company
rode together out of the wood and along the road towards Strelsau, the
king being full of jokes and hugely delighted with a trick that suited
his merry fancy. But before they had ridden far, they met the great
crowd which had come out from Strelsau to learn what had happened to
the Princess Osra. And the king cried out that the Grand Duke was to
marry the princess, while his guards who had been with him and the
ambassador's people spread themselves among the crowd and told the
story. And when they heard it, the Strelsau folk were nearly beside
themselves with amusement and delight, and thronged round Osra,
kissing her hands and blessing her. But the king drew back, and let
her and the Grand Duke ride alone together, while he followed with
Count Sergius. Thus, moving at a very slow pace, they came in the
forenoon to Strelsau; but some one had galloped on ahead with the
news, and the cathedral bells had been set ringing, the streets were
full, and the whole city given over to excitement and rejoicing. All
the men were that day in love with Princess Osra; and, what is more,
they told their sweethearts so, and these found no other revenge than
to blow kisses and fling flowers at the Grand Duke as he rode past
with Osra by his side. Thus they came back to the palace whence they
had fled in the early gleams of that morning's light.
It was evening, and the moon rose, fair and clear, over Strelsau. In
the streets there were sounds of merriment and rejoicing; for every
house was bright with light, and the king had sent out meat and
wine for every soul in the city, that none might be sad or hungry or
thirsty in all the city that night; so that there was no small
uproar. The king himself sat in his armchair, toasting the bride and
bride-groom in company with Count Sergius of Antheim, whose dignity,
somewhat wounded by the trick his master had played upon him, was
healing quickly under the balm of King Rudolf's graciousness. And the
king said to Count Sergius:
"My lord, were you ever in love?"
"I was, sire," said the count.
"So was I," said the king. "Was it with the countess, my lord?"
Count Sergius's eyes twinkled demurely; but he answered:
"I take it, sire, that it must have been with the countess."
"And I take it," said the king, "that it must have been with the
queen."
Then they both laughed, and then they both sighed; and the king,
touching the count's elbow, pointed out to the terrace of the palace,
on to which the room where they were opened. For Princess Osra and her
lover were walking up and down together on this terrace. And the two
shrugged their shoulders, smiling.
[Illustration: "HE LEANED FROM HIS SADDLE AS HE DASHED BY, AND ...
SNATCHED THE KING'S SWORD AWAY FROM HIM, JUST AS THE KING WAS ABOUT TO
THRUST IT THROUGH HIS SISTER'S LOVER."]
"With him," remarked the king, "it will have been with--"
"The countess, sire," discreetly interrupted Count Sergius of Antheim.
"Why, yes, the countess," said the king; and, with a laugh, they
turned bank to their wine.
But the two on the terrace also talked.
"I do not yet understand it," said Princess Osra. "For on the first
day I loved you, and on the second I loved you, and on the third, and
the fourth, and every day I loved you. Yet the first day was not like
the second, nor the second like the third, nor any day like any other.
And to-day, again, is unlike them all. Is love so various and full of
changes?"
"Is it not?" he asked with a smile. "For while you were with the
queen, talking of I know not what--"
"Nor I, indeed," said Osra hastily.
"I was with the king, and he, saying that forewarned was forearmed,
told me very strange and pretty stories. Of some a report had reached
me before--"
"And yet you came to Strelsau?"
"While of others, I had not heard."
"Or you would not have come to Strelsau?"
The Grand Duke, not heeding these questions, proceeded to his
conclusion:
"Love, therefore," said he, "is very various. For M. de Mérosailles--"
"These are old stories," cried Osra, pretending to stop her ears.
"Loved in one way, and Stephen the Smith in another, and--the Miller
of Hofbau in a third."
"I think," said Osra, "that I have forgotten the Miller of Hofbau. But
can one heart love in many different ways? I know that different men
love differently."
"But cannot one heart love in different ways?" he smiled.
"May be," said Osra thoughtfully, "one heart can have loved." But then
she suddenly looked up at him with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.
"No, no," she cried; "it was not love. It was--"
"What was it?"
"The courtiers entertained me till the king came," she said with a
blushing laugh. And looking up at him again, she whispered: "Yet I am
glad that you lingered for a little."
At this moment she saw the king come out on to the terrace, and
with him was the Bishop of Modenstein; and after the bishop had been
presented to the Grand Duke, the king began to talk with the Grand
Duke, while the bishop kissed Osra's hand and wished her joy.
"Madam," said he, "once you asked me if I could make you understand
what love was. I take it you have no need for my lessons now. Your
teacher has come."
"Yes, he has come," she said gently, looking on the bishop with great
friendliness. "But tell me, will he always love me?"
"Surely he will," answered the bishop.
"And tell me," said Osra, "shall I always love him?"
"Surely," said the bishop again, most courteously. "Yet, indeed,
madam," he continued, "it would seem almost enough to ask of Heaven to
love now and now to be loved. For the years roll on, and youth goes,
and even the most incomparable beauty will yield its blossoms when
the season wanes; yet that sweet memory may ever be fresh and young,
a thing a man can carry to his grave and raise as her best monument on
his lady's tomb."
"Ah, you speak well of love," said she. "I marvel that you speak so
well of love. For it is as you say; and to-day in the wood it seemed
to me that I had lived enough, and that even Death was but Love's
servant as Life is, both purposed solely for his better ornament."
"Men have died because they loved you, madam, and some yet live who
love you," said the bishop.
"And shall I grieve for both, my lord--or for which?"
"For neither, madam; for the dead have gained peace, and they who live
have escaped forgetfulness."
"But would they not be happier for forgetting?"
"I do not think so," said the bishop; and, bowing low to her again, he
stood back, for he saw the king approaching with the Grand Duke; and
the king took him by the arm, and walked on with him; but Osra's face
lost the brief pensiveness that had come upon it as she talked with
the bishop, and, turning to her lover, she stretched out her hands to
him, saying:
"I wish there was a cottage, and that you worked for bread, while I
made ready for you at the cottage, and then ran far, far, far, down
the road to watch and wait for your coming."
"Since a cottage was not too small, a palace will not be too large,"
said he, catching her in his arms.
Thus the heart of Princess Osra found its haven and its rest; for a
month later she was married to the Grand Duke of Mittenheim in the
cathedral of Strelsau, having utterly refused to take any other place
for her wedding. And again she and he rode forth together through the
western gate; and the king rode with them on their way till they came
to the woods. Here he paused, and all the crowd that accompanied him
stopped also; and they all waited till the sombre depths of the glades
hid Osra and her lover from their sight. Then, leaving them thus
riding together to their happiness, the people returned home, sad for
the loss of their darling princess. But, for consolation, and that
their minds might less feel her loss, they had her name often on their
lips; and the poets and story-tellers composed many stories about
her, not always grounded on fact, but the fabric of idle imaginings,
wrought to please the fancy of lovers or to wake the memories of older
folk. So that, if a stranger goes now to Strelsau, he may be pardoned
if it seem to him that all mankind was in love with Princess Osra.
Nay, and those stories so pass all fair bounds that, if you listened
to them, you would come near to believing that the princess also had
found some love for all the men who had given her their love. Thus to
many she is less a woman that once lived and breathed than some sweet
image under whose name they fondly group all the virtues and the
charms of her whom they love best, each man fashioning for himself
from his own chosen model her whom he calls his princess. Yet it
may be that for some of them who so truly loved her, her heart had a
moment's tenderness. Who shall tell all the short-lived dreams that
come and go, the promptings and stirrings of a vagrant inclination?
And who would pry too closely into these secret matters? May we not
more properly give thanks to heaven that the thing is as it is? For
surely it makes greatly for the increase of joy and entertainment
in the world, and of courtesy and true tenderness, that the heart of
Princess Osra--or of what lady you may choose, sir, to call by her
name--should flutter in pretty hesitation here and there and to and
fro a little, before it flies on a straight swift wing to its destined
and desired home. And if you be not the prince for your princess, why,
sir, your case is a sad one.