The last days of the carnival were more merry than in former years,
because everyone tried to make the King cheerful, on whose forehead
could often be seen something like sadness and yearning.
He yawned very often during the afternoon, and Guarini's jokes could
not make him laugh. They asked Faustina to sing the King's favourite
songs. Frosch and Horch were promised a reward for good tricks. They
induced the King to shoot every day at a target. The entertainments at
the castle were very brilliant. Bruehl would hardly leave the castle; he
would stand at the door trying to guess the King's thoughts. Sometimes
Augustus would be in a better humour and would smile; but very often
too, during the laughter, a cloud would come and the monarch's face
would become suddenly gloomy; then he would turn to the window, and
appeared not to see or to hear anything.
The next day Sulkowski received an order to go immediately to Nebigan.
He was obliged to leave Dresden. The people were waiting for him on his
way in order to jeer at him.
His little dog Fido was running after his carriage, someone shot him.
It was done in the day time, in the town, and no one said anything. The
Countess cried, the Count said not a word, he bore it stoically,
pretending to know nothing about it.
The vile mob accompanied him beyond the bridge, running and shouting
after him. The coachman urged the horses, the Count looked into the
distance and did not even move--he felt superior to it all.
Bruehl was told all about this; he only smiled.
At last the new minister learned through his spies that Sulkowski's
downfall aroused in the court rather regret and fear than pleasure.
They murmured everywhere.
The only remedy for that was to isolate the King so that no
unauthorised word could penetrate to him. During the next few days,
immediately the new officials were appointed, Bruehl's brother became
the Grand Marshal of the court, the pages and lackeys whom they
suspected of having any relations with Sulkowski, were changed.
Augustus got everything he was fond of, but he was strictly watched. He
felt happy, since he could satisfy his habits and besides that, desired
nothing else.
It was impossible immediately to think of restraining the Queen's
influence, but it was in Bruehl's plans to do so. He determined to act
through his wife alone, for he feared that Guarini would not consent to
use such radical measures. Bruehl felt omnipotent, and his viceroys, as
they called his councillors, grew more and more arrogant.
They were still afraid of Sulkowski and it was necessary to finish with
him once and for ever. Henniche collected proofs of money appropriated.
The action that now had to be put through was, to confiscate the
Fuerstenburg Palace, given to him by the King, to take from him Nebigan
Castle, and lock him up in Koenigstein. As there had been many similar
examples in the reign of Augustus the Strong, Bruehl expected to be able
to carry out his plans very easily. Sulkowski, free, was dangerous.
Sulkowski in Vienna would be threatening.
Bruehl was still more alarmed that the Count did not seem to be crushed
by his misfortune. He ordered his furniture to be brought from Dresden
to Nebigan, and the beautiful situation of the castle made sojourn in
it quite bearable. From his window Sulkowski could see the tower of the
King's castle, in which he had been such a powerful man.
The carnival drew to its end, the Count did not leave Nebigan.
Every day his steps were dogged by spies, but they could not learn
anything. Nobody visited him from town. Every day the Count's servants
would go to Dresden for provisions, but they had no intercourse with
anyone except the shopkeepers.
The Count would spend whole days reading, conversing with his wife, and
writing letters, but the spies never learned how they were sent.
One morning Bruehl entered the King's room with a pile of papers. The
King hated the mere sight of papers, and talk about intrigues. One word
would make him sullen.
Bruehl would shorten the disagreeable duty by handing to the King
documents ready for his signature. Augustus III would sit at a table
and would sign them like a machine, not looking at the documents; his
signature was always the same, clear, precise, majestic and quiet.
That day, the King, having noticed the papers, was preparing to perform
his onerous duty, but Bruehl stood motionless, and did not unfold the
documents.
An enquiring look made him speak.
'Sire,' he said, 'I have to-day such a disagreeable affair that for the
sake of my lord's peace I should like not to speak about it.'
The King twisted his mouth.
'I would have preferred that somebody else should have done this, but
nobody would take my place,' said Bruehl sighing. 'Consequently I must
speak myself.'
'H'm?' said Augustus.
'Your Majesty knows well,' Bruehl continued, 'that I am not mixed up in
Sulkowski's affairs.'
'It is over! Enough of it!' interrupted the King impatiently.
'Not altogether,' rejoined Bruehl, 'and that is why I feel so unhappy. I
took his duties, I am an honest man, I was obliged to investigate
everything.'
The King stared at Bruehl; there was something alarming in that look.
'Among his papers were found some letters accusing your Majesty's
ungrateful servant; there were many abuses; deficits in the accounts--'
The King cleared his throat.
'But I still have money?' he asked with energy.
'Yes, but not as much as there ought to be,' said the minister. 'But
the worst is this, that the letters exchanged between Sulkowski and
some foreign courts condemn him as a most dangerous man. If he goes to
Poland he will be protected by the laws of the republic; should he go
to Vienna, he might be a menace to us there. In a word, wherever
Sulkowski might go--'
Bruehl looked attentively at the King's face as he said this, but
although he knew his character well, he could not guess what impression
he had made on Augustus by his speech. Augustus looked surprised, gazed
round the room, grew red and pale by turns, appeared confused, but did
not say a word.
The minister waited for the answer. Augustus cleared his throat,
coughed loudly and looked challengingly at Bruehl.
'Your Majesty,' Bruehl continued, 'knows that I am against severe
measures. I also loved that man, he was my friend as long as he was
faithful to my lord. To-day as a minister, as a faithful servant, I
must act against my heart.'
It was evidently an understood thing between Bruehl and Guarini, that
the Padre was to enter during this conversation, and in he came. But
the King made quite a different use of his presence and asked after
Faustina.
'She is very well,' answered Guarini laughing. '_Chi ha la sanita, e
ricco, e se no 'l sa_.'
But Bruehl stood there like an executioner. 'Will Your Majesty permit me
to finish my unpleasant business?' he said. 'Father Guarini knows all
about it.'
'Ah! He knows! Very well!' said the King and turning to the Padre asked
him: 'And what do you think of it?'
The Padre shrugged his shoulders. 'I hold the same opinion as my
gracious lord,' he said laughing. 'I am a priest, it is not for me to
judge these things.'
There was a pause; Augustus looked at the floor; Bruehl was frightened.
'During the reign of Augustus the Strong, Sulkowski would by this time
have been in Koenigstein,' said Bruehl.
'No! No!' said Augustus, looking at Bruehl and growing pale; then he
rose and paced to and fro.
Guarini stood sighing.
'I never insisted on treating anyone severely,' rejoined Bruehl. 'I was
and I am for clemency, but there are proofs of such ingratitude--'
The Jesuit raised his eyes and sighed again. He and Bruehl both watched
the King's every movement and did not know what to think. Never before
had he been a riddle to them, knowing him they were sure of being able
to make him give in, but the question was, how to do it without
wearying him, for then he would be angry with them for tiring him.
Bruehl looked at Guarini as though urging him to finish the matter. The
Padre looked back at the minister with the same silent request.
Augustus directed his gaze steadily to the floor.
'What are your Majesty's orders?' asked Bruehl persisting.
'What about?' muttered the King.
'About Sulkowski.'
'Ah! yes--yes--'
And again he looked down at the floor.
At length he turned to Bruehl, and as it seemed with a great effort,
pointing to the table, said:
'Leave the papers until to-morrow.'
The minister grew confused, for he was not willing to leave the papers.
Although he was sure that the King would not read them he was cautious,
and being afraid that something unexpected might happen, wished to
finish the business at one blow. He looked at Guarini.
'Sire,' said the Jesuit softly, 'it is such a bitter pill that it is
not worth while to taste it twice. _Alcun pensier no paga mai debito_.
Why think it over?'
The King did not answer; presently he turned to Bruehl and said: 'In the
afternoon shooting at the target in the castle.'
The order was significant, Bruehl was confounded.
'The last reindeer tired us,' added the King, 'but it was worthy of our
efforts.'
He was silent again.
'And the last died,' he added sighing.
The clock pointed to the hour at which the King was accustomed to go to
the Queen; he ordered a chamberlain to be called.
Bruehl was dismissed, having gained nothing, and his efforts were
frustrated. He did not know why the King resisted him. The King
hastened off. They were obliged to leave him, and Bruehl called the
Padre into the next room.
He threw the papers on the table.
'I am at a loss to understand it!' he cried.
'_Patienza! Col tempo e colla paglia maturano le nespole!_' answered
Guarini. 'Wait till to-morrow; you could not expect to do it so soon.
The King must grow accustomed to the idea, and as he dislikes every
fresh attack, you will succeed.'
The minister relapsed into thought.
'At any rate, it is bad,' he said, 'that he is still so fond of
Sulkowski.'
They began to whisper, taking counsel of each other. The Jesuit went to
the Queen, Bruehl returned home with the papers.
The King being fond of regular habits, while smoking his pipe in the
afternoon, would never see anyone except those who could amuse him.
Even Bruehl was then obliged to forget his duties as prime minister and
assume the role of one of the King's fools. But, as there was no danger
on those afternoons, the minister showed himself very seldom. The King
amused himself with his fools, and was not permitted to send for
anybody outside the court, for even if Bruehl's creatures received such
an order, they would find some pretext for not fulfilling it, until
they had consulted the minister.
From the time of Augustus the Strong there remained in the court the
famous fool Joseph Frohlich, who wore a silver chamberlain's key on his
back containing a quart of wine.
Bruehl, who distrusted him as much as the Baron Schmiedel, tried to get
him dismissed, but Augustus would not permit him to drive off all his
father's faithful servants. Frohlich had his own house beyond the
bridge, was well to do, and seldom appeared at court; but every time he
came, Augustus would laugh as soon as he caught sight of his round
face.
That afternoon Bruehl was not with the King. Frosch had a swollen face,
the result of a blow from Horch, and could not come to amuse the King.
Therefore no one was surprised when the King told the page to go and
bring Frohlich.
The fool was very much surprised when he received the order to go to
the castle. He quickly donned one of the three hundred dresses
purchased for him by Augustus the Strong, hung his famous key on his
back, and rushed through the bridge thinking by what joke he could best
amuse the King.
Even fools have hours in which they do not care to laugh. Frohlich,
_semper nunquam traurig_, as the motto ran on a medal struck in his
honour, was in such a mood that day that he was not _froehlich_ but sour
as vinegar. He would not confess it, but he liked the times of Augustus
II better than those of his son.
But the habit of being amusing to order enabled him to be merry when he
appeared before the King.
Besides being witty, Frohlich was a very able conjuror, and it was just
then more easy for him to begin by some trick than a witticism.
Kneeling before the King, Frohlich said that he ran so fast that his
throat was dry. He took off his key and asked if his Majesty would be
kind enough to permit him to strengthen his forces by a draught of
wine. The King clapped his hands and told a page to bring a bottle.
In the meantime Frohlich employed himself cleaning his key which was a
little rusty, and from which he was going to drink, complaining that he
seldom used it now. The page stood with the bottle ready to pour in the
wine, when Frohlich looking at the bottom of his key, grew frightened
at seeing something in it.
'Who would have expected,' he exclaimed, 'that a bird would build a
nest in it?' And a canary flew out of the key. The King laughed; but
that was not all; there was still something more in the key, and the
fool took out a pile of ribbons, six handkerchiefs, a candle, and a
handful of nuts. Then he said that not being certain that there was not
an enchanted princess in the key, he would prefer to drink the King's
health from a glass. After some refreshment, the fool began to amuse
the King by imitating well-known actors.
The entertainment lasted about half an hour. The King laughed, but
Frohlich noticed that in spite of his apparent mirth, he was uneasy,
perplexed and distracted. He wondered what the cause could be, when, to
his surprise, the King went to the farthest window, and motioned to him
to follow.
There was something so mysterious and unusual in this that Frohlich was
alarmed. He followed the King, however, to the window, where he was
standing, looking round undecided and alarmed.
The fool could not solve the riddle.
'Frohlich, listen,' said the King in a whisper, 'h'm! laugh aloud,
laugh, but listen to what I am going to say, Do you understand?'
As yet the fool did not understand, but he began to laugh so loudly as
to deafen the loudest conversation. The King took hold of his ear and
drew it almost to his lips.
'Frohlich is faithful, honest, will not betray me,' he said. 'To-day,
go secretly to Nebigan. Understand? Tell him, understand, to escape at
once to Poland.'
Frohlich could not understand why the King should use him as a secret
messenger. It did not strike him to think of Sulkowski. He made a
gesture that he did not understand. The King bent again over his ear
and said one word only: 'Sulkowski!'
Having said this, as though frightened at having mentioned a name
forbidden to be spoken at the court, he drew aside, Frohlich could not
laugh any more. He was so frightened that he did not yet comprehend.
His face must have expressed the doubt, for the King told him again to
laugh, aloud, repeating the order precisely.
He spoke quickly, incoherently, but at length the fool understood that
the King told him to warn the Count of his danger, and bid him escape
to Poland.
In order not to arouse suspicion Augustus continued for a time to
listen to the fool's jokes and then taking a handful of gold pieces
from his pocket, put them into Frohlich's hands.
'Go!' said the King.
Frohlich, after being permitted to kiss the King's hand, went out and
ran home as fast as he could.
He hardly grasped what had happened to him. It was necessary to collect
his thoughts and take counsel with himself, how he could best fulfil
the King's order, for he was afraid of his _entourage_.
He fell into deep thought, and sighed. The task was difficult. Even had
he been less familiar with the life of the court and the fate of
favourites, he could easily guess that there were plenty of spies round
Nebigan and probably also in the castle.
Frohlich was a well-known person, but happily the frequent fancy-dress
balls, given during the reign of Augustus the Strong, accustomed most
people to the art of disguising themselves. Frohlich closeted himself
in his room and without losing time commenced to work at his
transformation.
It was early in February, the river Elbe was covered with strong ice,
and it seemed to Frohlich that access to Nebigan was easiest and safest
from the river. It was too late to travel on foot, so he hired a sledge
at Briesnitz, and having promised the driver high pay, was driven
swiftly to an inn in the village of Nebigan. Telling the driver to
wait, he went out through, another door and walked towards the river.
He felt that only by some good luck could he fulfil his dangerous
mission. On arriving at the castle he hesitated, then he entered the
courtyard and ran as fast as he could to the hall. It was dark and no
one was about. Sulkowski never kept many servants and now he had still
less. The stairs were dark, and only on ascending them did he hear
voices. In the anteroom the servants were quarrelling over their game
of cards.
At the sight of a strangely dressed man, coming at such an unusual
hour, they sprang to their feet, asking him what he wanted.
Frohlich said that he must see the Count at once. The butler first
searched his pockets, fearing that he might carry arms, or might have
come with some evil design, then went to the Count to announce the
stranger.
There was some stir in the castle: the wig, the clothes and the
handkerchief with which his face was covered did not permit them to
recognise Frohlich. They showed him into a drawing-room, just lighted
for the purpose. Sulkowski was pale but quiet and as proud as if he
were still prime minister. The visitor requested that the servant might
be dismissed. The request aroused some suspicion and alarm, but the
Count did not betray his feelings. As soon as they were alone, Frohlich
uncovered his face.
'Two hours ago,' he said, 'I was called to the King; I shall repeat his
own words: "To-day, secretly, go to Nebigan--tell him to escape at once
to Poland."'
Sulkowski listened indifferently.
'The King told you this?' he asked.
'Yes, and with fear lest he might be overheard, as though he were a
slave and not a king.'
'He is a slave and will remain so for ever,' sighed Sulkowski.
He became pensive.
'May God reward you,' he said presently, 'for the trouble you have
taken for me, or rather for the King. How can I show you my gratitude?'
'Only by this, that your Excellency fulfils the King's will to-night.'
The Count stood as if riveted to the ground. Frohlich went out to find
his sledge, while the Count still stood undecided as to what to do.
He knew enough of Bruehl to understand that his wisest course was to
follow the King's advice.
The next day as the King was returning from chapel, Guarini came to him
to wish him good morning. To this the King would usually answer by
sounds similar to those produced by clearing his throat, laughter or
hiccoughs. The King's face indicated excellent health, which he
inherited from his father, and as he did not abuse it, it served him
admirably.
Guarini with other courtiers accompanied the King.
The King looked at him inquisitively several times, as if trying to
learn something from the expression of his face; at length he said
laconically: 'Cold.'
'I feel it, for at best I am an Italian,' said Guarini, 'but
notwithstanding the cold,' he continued in a whisper, 'there are people
who do not fear to travel. A certain Count whose name I will not
mention, for he was unfortunate enough to fall into disgrace--started
last night, so I heard, to an unknown destination.'
The King as though not hearing made no answer.
Bruehl was waiting in the King's room with the documents, but he was
distracted and morose.
Augustus came to him quickly. 'Bruehl! those papers of yesterday; we
must finish with them.'
'All is over,' answered the minister, sighing.