The King's birthday, the seventh of October, was celebrated at
Hubertsburg Castle. Augustus III was very strict about maintaining the
etiquette of the court, introduced by the Queen. The whole court was
gorgeously dressed at eight o'clock in the morning, waiting in the
large hall for the King, whose custom it was at this hour to attend
Mass. All the men wore orange-yellow uniforms, but as they were going
to hunt immediately after breakfast, they wore jack-boots. Emerging
from the chapel, the King and Queen, and everybody from the court who
wished to please them, repaired to the so-called Rubenstein Cross. From
there the hunt started, and the King rode after reindeer which had been
brought to the spot for the purpose. Sulkowski, Bruehl, the old General
Bandissin and all the men belonging to the court accompanied the King,
who was in an excellent humour. In the morning the Queen had prepared a
surprise and presented him with her own portrait painted by herself.
Having kissed the hand of the august artist, the King ordered the
precious picture to be hung in his room. Sulkowski brought from
Giustinian's in Venice a very beautiful picture by Palma Veccio, and
deposited it at the King's feet. Bruehl brought him a picture painted by
Rembrandt. Pictures always pleased the King well. Those which he liked,
he would order to be hung in his room and would gaze at them in
silence, and only when tired of looking at them would he order them to
be hung in the new gallery.
They killed three reindeer that day and the King became still more
good-humoured, he did not speak more, but he smiled, winked his eyes,
raised his head, and his face beamed with satisfaction. He smiled
several times to Sulkowski, as if wishing to smooth over any impression
that he was still angry after that unfortunate evening.
The hunt was over early and they went to Hubertsburg, where dinner
awaited them. During the hunt the Queen was present, and although her
gloomy face betrayed that she was tired, she made an effort to smile
and be agreeable to everybody. Even Sulkowski got a few kind words from
her.
As soon as dinner was over they started for Dresden, where an opera,
three ballets between the acts, the smiles of Faustina and a cantata
composed by Hasse specially for the day, awaited the King. At five
o'clock, the curtain rose in the theatre, lighted magnificently and
filled with the court beautifully dressed, and Faustina, dressed more
carefully than ever, came forth staring at the King's box.
The new King was beaming with joy, quite happy because his life flowed
smoothly, not disturbed by anything. He never asked the Fates for more,
neither for fame, nor conquests; all he cared for was perfect quiet,
during which he could eat, laughing at Frosch and Horch, then smoke a
pipe, look at good pictures, listen to Padre Guarini's chatter, enjoy
Faustina's singing and go to bed, with no misgivings for the next day.
In his quiet life there was however a dark secret. No one knew the King
better than Sulkowski, but even from him was hidden one of the corners
of his character, in which was hiding a passion ashamed to show itself
to the world and the people.
Father Guarini alone, as a confessor, knew how strong that passion was,
and he alone could entirely subdue the King. Following his directions
Bruehl assisted by his mother-in-law and his wife took the impregnable
stronghold and was master of it before Sulkowski made the attempt. When
he took that unfortunate step it was already too late. The place was
taken, another was already in possession, even his best friend Bruehl,
who pretended that he knew nothing and that he did not wish to know
anything, never betraying the secret even by the slightest allusion,
and was more powerful than Sulkowski who never even suspected that
there could be anyone more essential to the King than himself.
After the attempt with Adelaida Stein, he felt still stronger, thinking
that his failure was the best proof that no one could dominate the King
by means of a woman. While he felt so assured he stood on the edge of a
precipice which he did not see.
Faustina made a great effort that day and sang marvellously. The King
raising his eyes was in ecstasies. It seemed that he was looking only
at her, although a sharp eye could have detected that from time to time
he glanced towards Bruehl's wife.
Frau Bruehl was charming that day. Everybody was astounded that Bruehl
could afford to pay for all the luxury with which she was surrounded.
Frau Bruehl evidently wished to be the greatest beauty of that evening
and she had put on a gold and white dress in which she looked like a
virgin. A very becoming head-dress, with a stream of diamonds, white
lace on satin, diamond earrings, that shone like two big stars, made
her the queen of the evening.
The Countess Moszynski with her severely beautiful features, reminding
many of Cosel, was beautiful but in no way did she rival Frau Bruehl.
All eyes looked at her, she did not look at anybody. Leaning on one
arm, she turned towards the stage, but her eyes fixed on one spot were
sad.
Bruehl was envied, at which he smiled. Dressed as gorgeously as his
wife, looking fresh and young, he seemed rather to be a dissipated lazy
man, than the most hard-working of ministers to whom the fate of the
state was entrusted.
After the first act, a French ballet followed, conducted by Monsieur
Favier, with the famous solo dancer Desmoyers, Mademoiselles Rottier
and Vauriaville, who were dressed as ideal peasants.
After the opera the elite of the court were invited to a supper, as was
the custom in the time of Augustus the Strong.
The enormous hall of the castle was illuminated with thousands of
candles; the table was set for eighty people; there was a separate
table for the King and Queen. According to the etiquette of the
Austrian court only cardinals were invited to the King's table.
The King was in an excellent humour that night; the Queen was gloomy,
uneasy, and sad as usual. The beautiful women, who softened her cold
and majestic bearing by their charms, saddened and irritated her,
although the King gave her no reason to be jealous: on the contrary he
was most attentive to his consort and did not gaze at any of the ladies
present.
The supper was served very ceremoniously. The dishes were brought in
with great pomp, and every toast was announced by trumpet and drums.
After ten o'clock all left the table in excellent humour; the King
accompanied by Sulkowski and Bruehl went to his apartment. Passing the
row of ladies Augustus III affected not to see any of them, but when he
passed Bruehl's wife he exchanged with her a significant look.
Sulkowski did not see anything, neither did he guess anything. Taking
advantage of the King's good humour he decided to speak to him
confidentially and try to overthrow Bruehl. Augustus was equally kind to
them both.
They entered the room where the lackeys were in readiness to undress
the King and to give him his much-preferred _robe de chambre_. Both
ministers waited till the lackeys were dismissed, when Sulkowski
whispered something to the King, smiled and pointed to Bruehl. The
minister noticed the movement and came near; Sulkowski began to whisper
to him. It was evident that Bruehl did not like what he said, he looked
at the King, hesitated a little as though he regretted leaving them
together, then he bowed submissively and left the room.
When the door was closed, Augustus III smiled and sitting in a chair,
said laconically as was his custom:
'There are only you and Bruehl.'
Sulkowski did not like the sound of the rival name, but he was obliged
to put up with it.
The pictures presented to the King that day stood before him, and he
looked at them with evident delight. Sulkowski tried to guess the
King's thoughts.
'Yes,' said he after a while, 'Bruehl is excellent for many reasons; he
is modest, intelligent, never contradicts me. I do what I please with
him. I am very satisfied with him.'
The King only nodded. Perhaps it may have seemed to him strange that
Sulkowski should speak in that patronising way about Bruehl, but he did
not show it.
The minister walked to and fro as if he were in his own room.
'I have not the slightest reason, as I said,' continued Sulkowski, 'to
be dissatisfied with Bruehl; he is intelligent and capable, but has some
faults--'
The King looked at him sharply; Sulkowski finished imperturbably.
'He is a spendthrift, he will cost us too much.'
Having said this the Count stopped before the King, as if waiting for
some reply. The King cleared his throat, raised his eyes and was
silent.
'He is a good man--' he whispered at length, seeing that the Count
waited for his answer.
He finished by stroking the arm of his chair and looking at the
pictures.
'If my gracious lord will permit me to express my thoughts--' Sulkowski
continued.
Augustus nodded affirmatively. The minister bent a little and said in a
whisper:
'Not now, for we need Bruehl, but later on we could get along with small
officials and thus save a great deal of money, for it would be very
difficult to teach him economy. Although I fear no rivalry, because I
am sure of the heart of my gracious lord, why should we make Bruehl
unhappy by letting his ambition grow? The Emperor would give the
Kolowraths some estate in Bohemia, if your Majesty were to ask him.
They could not retire there--'
Sulkowski looked to see what impression his suggestion had on the King,
but he was gazing so intently at the pictures that he seemed not to
hear.
The Count added--'Later, later!' but Augustus glancing at him replied
neither in the negative nor affirmative and got rid of him by silence.
After a time he rose to look at the pictures, walked several times
across the room and yawned, which was the sign that he wished to
retire. Sulkowski, not at all satisfied with the result of his
proposal, kissed the King's hand and left the room.
While this was going on in the castle, Bruehl, sent away on some
pretext, gave orders that he was to be carried home. In front of him
there was another porte-chaise which he recognised as his wife's. They
both alighted almost at the same moment. Bruehl, who seldom met his
wife, offered her his arm. She was about to refuse it but upon
reflection accepted it, smiling ironically, and not saying a word she
went upstairs with him.
On the stairs Bruehl did not speak, but when they reached the first
floor, although the lady wished to withdraw her arm, he did not allow
her to do so and escorted her to her apartment. They found themselves
again in the same room in which the first night after their wedding
they held that interesting conversation.
From that moment they had met only for a moment and in the presence of
witnesses. In the mornings the mother would be with her daughter, would
take her to her house and keep her there under some pretext.
Bruehl's duty was only to satisfy all his wife's fancies, which he
already willingly performed; for the rest they lived as strangers,
meeting only when obliged, and getting as little in each other's way as
possible. Bruehl was patient and polite. Sometimes he would meet his
wife's inquisitive glance which she withdrew as soon as he noticed it.
Frances changed a great deal: she grew still bolder and more fanciful,
she learned how to command her household, and required that her will
should be obeyed in the twinkling of an eye: sometimes she was
unnaturally merry, sometimes mercilessly ironical, sometimes coquettish
with strangers, so much so as even to arouse jealousy in such an
indifferent husband as Bruehl seemed to be; she grew more beautiful
every day. Although he was in love with the Countess Moszynski and
although it was suspected that he had relations with Abbuzzi, being yet
a young man he could not be indifferent to his wife's charms, which
seemed to mock his passionate looks.
When they entered the dressing room Frau Bruehl withdrew her arm and,
going to the dressing table, put down her gloves. She expected that her
husband would leave her and was surprised to see him standing between a
table and a chair.
Her look seemed to say: 'You are still here?' Bruehl's enigmatical smile
seemed to answer: 'Yes, madam, I am waiting.'
'Have you anything to tell me?' asked she.
'Will you not permit me to sit down and rest, and look on your beauty?'
Frances turned and laughed, shrugging her white shoulders; then she
turned again towards the mirror not without a certain coquettish
movement, which Bruehl noticed.
'Will you not agree that my position is a very peculiar one?'
'Mine is also peculiar; but neither you nor I need be surprised at
that.'
'You made me hope, that sometimes--you might have a fancy even for your
husband.'
'Yes! It may be that I said that, I do not remember,' she answered
carelessly, 'but it is certain that I have not that fancy yet. Go and
play cards with Moszynski or amuse yourself with Abbuzzi, and let me
alone. You worry me.'
'I ask you only for a moment's conversation.'
'Let us talk then but about something else.'
'About the King?' said Bruehl.
'I do not know if that will be permitted,' answered Frances laughing.
'Between ourselves--we have no sentiments, only a common interest.'
'You are right; then?'
'How is the King disposed towards Sulkowski?' asked Bruehl.
There was a long silence. Could one have seen within the woman's heart,
one would have noticed that the question hurt her. She knew that this
man did not care much for her, and because of some strange caprice she
wanted to please him, in order to enjoy tormenting him. An indifferent
question hurt her but she did not betray it.
'Ah!' she exclaimed. 'You wish me to be sincere? Sulkowski, you and
even the King, you worry me horribly! What do I care about your
ambitions and your quarrels? I wish to enjoy life! The King is a doll
without life!'
'For God's sake!' exclaimed Bruehl, wringing his hands.
'Nobody is listening to us,' said she indifferently. 'You told me to
amuse myself with the doll, or rather you gave me to understand that
he might play with me, but you can't expect me to be in love with him.
You know the King best. Good-looking, kind, incapable of anything
doubtful, passionate without sentiment, attached without courage to
show it, pious and superstitious, lascivious, timid, thoughtless,
tiresome--dreadfully so.'
'Madam,' Bruehl cried, 'were all that true you should not say it, and I
should not listen to it.'
'Then let us yawn,' the woman answered and she opened her mouth: then
she threw herself on the sofa as if she were tired, her head hanging
down, her arms fallen along her body; in that melancholy and coquettish
position she was charming. Bruehl looked and sighed.
'You asked me about Sulkowski,' said Frances slowly. The minister
nodded.
'Who can guess what that doll the King thinks? Has he a heart? Is he
capable of love? Can he love anybody sufficiently to become attached?
He is fond of Sulkowski as he is of his two fools, I know nothing
more.'
'But if we are to rule, I through you,' said Bruehl, 'we must get rid of
him.'
'And send him to Koenigstein as you did Watzdorf?' the woman rejoined
frowning.
The name fell as a stone between them; the minister grew confused.
'I give you my word, that it was not I, but Sulkowski, who sent
Watzdorf to Koenigstein.'
'The word of a diplomatist?'
'No, of an honest man,' said Bruehl, putting his hand on his breast.
'You could not say that I got rid of him on account of jealousy. Till
now I have had no right to be jealous--'
'What do you mean by till now? Do you expect to have the right?'
'It seems to me,' said Bruehl gallantly, 'if not today then to-morrow
you may tire of this, who knows? Perchance you might deign to look at
your servant.'
'It seems to me that you will have to wait a long time for that,' the
woman whispered.
'I shall be patient,' said Bruehl.
'_Croyez et buvez de l'eau_,' rejoined the woman.
Bruehl shivered but said coolly:
'You ought to help me to overthrow Sulkowski.'
'Yes, mother told me the same, implying that he might introduce
Adelaida Stein or some other woman to the King. What do I care for
that?'
'But are you not fond of diamonds, dresses, luxury, high living?' Bruehl
asked.
They looked into each other's eyes.
'Very well then,' she said, 'we shall overthrow Sulkowski, it will be a
revenge for Watzdorf; it will be a distraction. We shall overthrow that
boaster.'
'But you must act carefully, slowly, you must--'
He wanted to explain to her at length, when Frances rose, as if lacking
in patience.
'You think I need some instruction?' she said laughing. 'And what am I
a woman for? You think it necessary to teach me cunning, how to pour
the poison by drops, how to whisper traitorous words? How to answer
suspicions with a double-meaning word? Ah! my dear sir, I was brought
up at court. I looked at you ministers, my mother was my teacher, who,
while still in the cradle, taught me how to lie, how to love
falsehood!'
And she laughed strangely, almost desperately.
'Be assured, I shall overthrow him, and when I choose, you also--'
Suddenly she became silent, she put a handkerchief to her eyes, and
went slowly to her chamber. She locked the door behind her; Bruehl
remained alone.