Chapters IV and V with the chapter heading for Chapter V omitted.
"To reduce--thanks to the means which my incomparable mistress has
provided for me--the subalterns of the garrison; to effect an
understanding with a prisoner as fond of liberty as I am; to give a
violent blow to one keeper, a kick to another, and a sword cut to a
third; to leap over the rampart, throwing my friend, who did not run as
fast as I did, before me (he sprained his ankle as he fell); to pick him
up and run thus for fifteen minutes; to cross the Weiss, the water
coming up to my waist, through a fog so thick that no one could see
beyond his nose; to start from the other bank and travel all night--such
a terrible night! to get lost; to go in the snow all around a mountain,
without having an idea where I was; to hear the clock of the castle of
Glatz strike four--that is to say, to lose time and trouble and see the
city walls at dawn; to resume courage to enter a peasant's hut and, with
a pistol at his head, get possession of two horses and ride rapidly
away;--to regain liberty by a thousand _ruses_, a thousand terrors and
sufferings--and then to find oneself without money or clothing, and
almost without bread, in an intensely cold and a foreign country: but to
see oneself free, after having been doomed to a terrible and fearful
captivity; to think of one's adorable mistress; to say that this news
will fill her with joy; to make a thousand bold and daring plans to see
her--is to be happier than Frederick of Prussia--to be the happiest of
men--the elect of Providence!"
Such was the tenor of the letter of Frederick von Trenck to the Princess
Amelia; and the ease with which Madame von Kleist read it proved to
Porporina, who was much surprised and moved, that this correspondence in
cypher was very familiar to them. There was a postscript to this
effect:--
"The person who will give you this letter is as trustworthy as the
others were not. You may confide in her without reserve, and give her
all your letters for me. The Count de Saint Germain can contrive a means
to enable her to send them, though it is altogether unnecessary that the
said count, in whom I have not the fullest confidence, should ever hear
of you. He will think me in love with Porporina, though such is not the
case, for I have not entertained for her anything but an affectionate
and pure friendship. Let no cloud, then, darken the beautiful brow of
_the divinity I adore._ For her alone do I breathe, and I would rather
die than deceive her."
While the Baroness von Kleist deciphered aloud this postscript, weighing
each word, the Princess Amelia examined the features of Porporina
carefully, for the purpose of discovering an expression of grief,
humiliation, or mortification. The angelic serenity of this creature
perfectly reassured her, and she began to overwhelm her with caresses,
saying--
"And I suspected you, my poor child. You do not know how jealous I have
been of you, and how I have hated and cursed you. I hoped to find you an
ugly and bad actress, for the very reason that I was afraid you would be
too beautiful and good. This was the reason that my brother, fearing
that I would be acquainted with you, though he pretended to wish to
bring you to my concerts, took care to let me hear a report that at
Vienna you had been Trenck's mistress. He was well aware that in that
manner he would best contrive to alienate me from you. I believed all
this, while you devoted yourself to the greatest dangers to bring me
this happy news. You do not love the king? Ah! you are frightened: he is
the most perverse and cruel of men."
"Ah! madame!--madame!" said the Baroness von Kleist, terrified at the
abandoned and mad volubility with which the princess spoke before
Porporina, "to what dangers you would now expose yourself, were not the
signora an angel of courage and devotion!"
"That is true. I am mad! I think I have lost my head! Shut the doors,
Von Kleist, and see if any one in the antechamber has heard me. As for
her," said the princess, pointing to Porporina, "look and see if it be
possible to suspect such a face as hers? No, no; I am not so imprudent
as I seem to be, dear Porporina. Do not think I speak frankly because I
am crazed, and will repent when I am calm. I have an infallible
instinct, you see. My eyes are infallible, and have never deceived me.
This is a family peculiarity; and though my brother the king is vain of
it, he possesses it in no higher degree than I do. No; you will not
deceive me. I know you will not deceive a woman who is devoured by an
unfortunate passion, and has suffered what people can form no idea of."
"Oh, madame, never!" said Porporina, and she knelt before her, as if to
call God to witness her oath. "Neither you nor Trenck, who saved my
life, nor any one else."
"He saved your life? Ah! I am sure he has done as much for many others,
he is so brave, good, and handsome. You did not look very closely at
him, otherwise you would have fallen in love. Is not this the case? You
will tell me how you met him, and how he saved your life. Not now,
however. I cannot listen, but must speak to you, for my heart is
overflowing. Long since it has been drying up in my bosom. I wish to
speak--I must speak--let me alone, Von Kleist--my joy must find an
utterance or my heart will burst. Shut the doors, however, and watch.
Take care of me--pity me, my poor friends, for I am very happy!" The
princess wept.
"You must know," said she, after the lapse of a few minutes, her voice
being half-stifled by tears, with an agitation which nothing could calm,
"that from the first time I saw I was pleased with him. He was then
eighteen years of age and beautiful as an angel. He was so well
educated, so frank and so brave. They washed to marry me to the king of
Sweden. Ah! yes; and my sister Ulrica wept with mortification when she
saw I was about to become a queen, while she was unmarried. 'My dear
sister,' said I, 'we can arrange matters. The great men who rule over
Sweden, wish a Catholic queen, and I will make no abjuration. They wish
a good queen, indolent, calm, and careless of all politics. Now, were I
queen, I would reign. I shall express my opinion decidedly on these
points to the ambassadors, and you will see that to-morrow they will
write to their prince that I am not such a queen as Sweden needs.' I
acted as I said I would, and my sister is queen of Sweden. Ah!
Porporina, you think you are an actress. You do not know, however, what
it is to play a part all one's life, morning, day, evening, and often by
night. All who surround us, are busy in watching and spying us out, in
guessing at and in betraying us. I have been forced to seem sad and
mortified, when by my exertions my sister sprang into the throne of
Sweden. I have been forced to seem to detest Trenck, to think him
ridiculous, and to laugh at him. Yet all the time, I loved and adored
him. I was his mistress, and was as much stifled with happiness as I am
now--far more so, alas!--Trenck, however, had not my strength and
courage. He was not of a princely house, and did not know how to feign
and lie as I did. The king discovered all; and following the royal rule,
pretended to see nothing. He persecuted Trenck, however, and the
handsome page became the victim of his hatred and fury. He overwhelmed
him by severity and hardship. He kept him in arrest seven days out of
every eight. On the eighth day, however, he was in my arms, for nothing
terrified or alarmed him. How could I not adore so much courage? Well,
the king confided a foreign mission to him, and when he had discharged
it with rare skill, my brother was base enough to accuse him of having
sold basely to his cousin, the Pandour, who is in the service of Maria
Theresa, plans of our fortifications and warlike plans. This was a means
not only to bear him from me into endless captivity, but to disgrace and
murder him by chagrin, despair, and rage, amid the horrors of a dungeon.
See whether I can esteem or honor my brother. He is a great man, they
say, but I tell you he is a monster. Take care, my child, how you love
him, for he will crush your heart as he would snap a twig. You must,
however, pretend--seem to do so. In such an atmosphere as that in which
you live, you must breathe in secret. I seem to adore my brother--I am
his best-beloved sister--all know or think they know. He is very
attentive to me, gathering fruit for me from the espaliers of _Sans
Souci_, depriving himself, and he loves nothing else, to gratify me.
Before he gives them to the page to bring, he counts them lest the lad
should eat a portion on the way. What a delicate attention! It is
_naïveté_ worthy of Henry IV. or King René. He, however, murders my
lover in an underground dungeon, and seeks to dishonor him in my eyes as
a punishment for having loved me. What a great heart! what a kind
brother! How we love each other!"
As she spoke, the princess grew pale, her voice became feeble, her eyes
became fixed and ready to start from their orbits, and she became livid
and motionless, She was unconscious. Porporina was much terrified, and
aided the baroness to unlace and put her to bed, where she gradually
recovered her senses, continuing the while to murmur unintelligible
words. "The attack will soon pass away, thank heaven," said the favorite
to the singer. "When she can control herself I will call her women. You,
my dear, must go into the music-room, and sing to the walls, or rather
to the antechamber's ears. The king will certainly know that you are
here, and you must seem to be occupied by music alone. The princess will
be sick, and thus will hide her joy. Neither she nor you must seem to be
aware of the escape of Trenck. It is certain that the king is now aware
of it, and will be in a terrible bad humor, suspecting every one. Be
careful, then. You as well as I will be lost, if he discover that you
gave that letter to the princess. Women as well as men are sent to
fortresses in Prussia. There they are intentionally forgotten, and die
as men do. You are now on your guard, adieu. Sing, and go without noise
and without mystery. Eight days, at least, will pass before we see you,
lest there be any suspicions. Rely on the gratitude of the princess. She
is nobly liberal, and knows how to reward those who have served her."
"Alas!" madame, said Porporina, "think you that promises or menaces are
heeded by me? I pity you for having entertained such an idea."
Crushed with fatigue after the violent emotions she had undergone, and
not yet recovered from the illness of the day before, Porporina sat down
to the instrument, and was beginning to sing, when a door was opened
behind her so softly that she did not perceive it. Suddenly, she saw in
the glass before her the figure of the king. She trembled, and wished to
leave, but the king placed one of his dry fingers on her shoulder,
forced her to sit still and continue. With much repugnance and
indisposition, she continued. She never felt less disposed to sing, and
on no occasion had the appearance of Frederick seemed so icy and
repugnant to musical inspiration.
When she had finished the piece, he said it was admirably sung. She had,
however, remarked that he had gone on tiptoe and listened at his
sister's chamber door. "I observe, with distress," added he, "that your
beautiful voice is much changed this morning. You should have rested,
instead of yielding to the strange whim of Amelia, and coming hither,
after all, not to be listened to."
"Her royal highness became suddenly indisposed," said Porporina,
terrified at the dark and thoughtful air of the king. "They told me to
sing, to distract her attention."
"I assure you it is labor lost," said Frederick, drily. "She chats in
there with the Baroness von Kleist, just as if nothing was the matter.
As that is the case, we may also chat together without attending to
them. The illness of the princess is not great. I think your sex are
easily cured of diseases of this kind. You were thought dead, yesterday,
and none certainly suspected that you would have been here this morning
to divert and amuse my sister. Will you be kind enough to tell me why
you came so unexpectedly to this place?"
Porporina was amazed at this question, and asked heaven to inspire her.
"Sire," said she, boldly as she could, "I can scarcely do so. I was
asked this morning for this music. I thought it my duty to bring it in
person. I expected to place the books in the antechamber and return as
soon as I could. The Baroness von Kleist saw me, and mentioned the fact
to her royal highness, who apparently wished to see me closely. I was
forced to come in. Her highness deigned to question me about the style
of various musical compositions: then feeling indisposed, she bade me
sing this while she went to bed. Now, I think I may be permitted to go
to rehearsal."
"It is not time yet." said the king. "I do not see why your feet should
step to run away when I wish to speak with you."
"The reason is, that when with your majesty, I always feel as if I were
not in my sphere."
"You have no common sense."
"That is yet another reason."
"You will remain," said he, forcing her to sit down to the piano, and
placing himself in front of her. He then began to examine her, with an
air half inquisitorial and half paternal.
"Is what you have said true?"
Porporina overcame the horror she entertained for falsehood. She had
often said that for her own sake she would be sincere with this terrible
man, but that she would not hesitate to tell an untruth if the safety of
others were concerned. Unexpectedly she had reached this crisis, when
her master's kindness might change into fury. She would willingly have
run the risk of the latter, rather than be false. The fate of Trenck and
the princess, however, depended on her presence of mind and
determination. She called the arts of her profession to her aid, and
with a malicious smile met the eagle eye of the king, which, at that
moment glared like a vulture's.
"Well," said the king, "why do you not answer me?"
"Why does your majesty seek to terrify me by doubting what I have said?"
"You are not at all afraid. On the contrary, I find your glance today
hardy indeed."
"Sire, we fear only the things we hate. Why do you wish me to fear you?"
Frederick erected all the scales of his crocodile armor, to avoid being
moved by this reply, the most coquettish he had ever obtained from
Porporina. He at once changed his intention: a great art it is to do so,
and far more difficult than people usually think.
"Why did you faint yesterday at the theatre?"
"Sire, it is of the least possible interest to your majesty. It is my
own secret."
"What had you at breakfast this morning, which makes you so unconcerned
in your language?"
"I had recourse to a certain flacon, which filled me with confidence in
the kindness and justice of him who brought it."
"Ah! you considered that a declaration," said the king in the most icy
manner and with a smile of cynical disdain.
"Thank God! I did not," said the young girl, with an expression of
sincere sorrow.
"Why thank God?"
"Because I know your majesty makes none but declarations of war even to
women."
"You are neither the Czarina, nor Maria Theresa: what war can I wage on
you?"
"That of the lion on the wasp."
"What wasp induces you to quote such a fable? The wasp killed the lion
by stinging him to death."
"It was certainly a poor, bad-tempered lion, and consequently weak. I
should not have thought of that apologue."
"But the wasp was angry and fond of stinging. Perhaps the apologue is
_apropos?_"
"Does your majesty think so?"
"Yes."
"Sire, you say what is not true."
Frederick took the young girl's wrist and pressed it convulsively, until
he had nearly crushed it. This strange act was caused both by anger and
love. Porporina did not change her countenance, and the king said, as he
looked at her red and swollen hand:
"You are a woman of courage."
"Not so, sire: but I do not, like those around you, pretend to be a
coward."
"What mean you?"
"That to avoid death, people often kill themselves. Were I in your
place, I would not wish to be so terrible."
"With whom are you in love?" said the king, again changing the subject.
"With no one, sire."
"Then, why have you nervous attacks?"
"That has nothing to do with the fate of Prussia, and for that reason
the king need ask no questions."
"Think you it is the king who speaks?"
"I cannot forget."
"Yet you must make up your mind to do so. You did not save the king's
life, signorina."
"I have not yet seen the Baron von Kreutz."
"Is that a reproach? It is unjust. Not the king but the Baron von Kreutz
enquired after your health, yesterday."
"The distinction, baron, is too subtle for me."
"Well, try and learn. Look: when I put my hat on my head thus, a little
to the left, I am a captain; when I place it thus, to the right, I am
king. You will, as the case may be, appear either Porporina or
Consuelo."
"I understand, sire. That, however, is impossible. Your majesty may be
double, if you please, be triple, or hundred fold, I can be but one."
"That is not true. You would not speak to me at the theatre, among your
companions, as you do here."
"Do not be too sure, sire."
"Ah! the devil is in you to-day."
"The reason is, that your majesty's hat is neither to the left nor to
the right. I do not know to whom I speak."
The king, overcome by the attraction, which at this moment especially he
felt towards Porporina, placed his hat so extremely on his left side,
that his face became really comic in its expression. He wished to play
the simple mortal and the king, in an hour of relaxation, as well as
possible. Suddenly, however, he remembered that he had come, not for
amusement, but to discover the secrets of the Abbess of Quedlimburgh,
and took off his hat with an air of deep chagrin. The smile died on his
lips, his brow became dark, and he rose up, saying to the young girl,
"Remain here, I will come for you." He then went into the Princess's
room, who waited tremblingly for him. The Baroness von Kleist, seeing
that he was talking with Porporina, had not dared to leave the bed of
the Princess. She had made vain efforts to hear this conversation, but
in consequence of the size of the room, had not heard a single word. She
was more dead than alive.
Porporina also trembled at what was about to take place. Ordinarily
grave and respectful to the king, she had done violence to her habits
for the purpose of amusing him, and adopted the most coquettish
frankness in her replies to the dangerous questions she had asked.
Frederick, however, was not the man to give up his point, and the
efforts of the young girl gave way before the despot's determination.
She recommended the Princess Amelia to God's mercy, for she was well
aware that the king forced her to remain to confront her explanations
with those he was listening to in the next room. She had the less doubt
from the careful manner with which he closed the door after he had
passed it. For a quarter of an hour, she was in the most painful
excitement, troubled with fever, terrified at the intrigue with which
she was enwrapped, and dissatisfied with the part she had been forced to
play, recalling at the time with terror the insinuations she began to
hear from all quarters, at the possibility of the king's love, which she
compared with the agitation the king had displayed by his strange
manners.