A momentary pause followed. Princess Elizabeth silently motioned her
friends to be seated, and drew her favorite Alexis nearer to her.
Lestocq, her physician and confidant, with a solemn countenance, took a
place opposite her.
“We are ready to hear your bad news,” said the princess.
“The regent, Anna Leopoldowna, will have herself crowned as empress,”
laconically responded Lestocq.
Elizabeth looked at him interrogatively and with curiosity for the
continuation of his bad news. But as Lestocq remained silent, she asked
with astonishment: “Is that all you have to tell us?”
“Preliminarily, that is all,” answered Lestocq.
Princess Elizabeth broke out with a joyous laugh.
“Well, this is, in fact, very comic. With a real Job’s mien you announce
to us the worst news, and then inform us that Anna Leopoldowna is to be
crowned empress! Let her be crowned! No one will interfere to prevent
it, and she will be none the happier for it. No woman who has taken
possession of the Russian throne as an independent princess has ever yet
been happy. Or do you think that Catharine, my lofty step-mother, was
so? Believe me, upon the throne she trembled with fear of assassins; for
it is well known that this Russian throne is surrounded by murderers,
awaiting only the favorable moment. Ah, whenever I have stood in front
of this imperial throne, it has always seemed to me that I saw the
points of a thousand daggers peeping forth from its soft cushions! And
you would have me seat myself upon such a dagger-beset throne? No,
no, leave me my peace and repose. Let Anna Leopoldowna declare herself
empress--what should I care? I should have to bend before her with my
congratulations. That is all!”
And the princess, letting her head glide upon Razumovsky’s shoulder, as
if exhausted by this long speech, closed her fatigued eyelids.
“Ah, if Czar Peter, your great father, could hear you,” sadly said
Lestocq, “he would spurn you for such pusillanimity, princess.”
“It is, therefore, fortunate for me that he is dead,” said the princess,
with a smile. “And now, my dear Lestocq, if you know nothing further,
let this suffice you: I tell you, once for all, that I have no desire
for this imperial throne. I would crown my head with roses and myrtles,
but not with that golden circle which would crush me to the earth.
Therefore, trouble me no more on this subject. Be content with what
I am, and if you cannot, well--then I must be reconciled to being
abandoned by you!”
“I will never desert you, even if I must follow you to suffering and
death!” exclaimed Alexis Razumovsky, casting himself at the feet of the
princess.
“We will remain true and faithful to you unto death!” cried Woronzow and
Grunstein.
“Well, and you alone remain silent, Lestocq?” asked the princess, with
tears in her eyes.
“I have not yet come to the end of my bad news,” said Lestocq, with a
clouded brow.
“Ah!” jestingly interposed the princess, “you would, perhaps, as further
bad news, inform us that the Emperor Ivan has cut his first tooth!”
“No,” said Lestocq, “I would only say to you, that the 18th of December,
the day on which the regent is to be crowned as empress, the 18th of
December is the day assigned for the marriage of Princess Elizabeth with
Prince Louis of Brunswick, the new Duke of Courland!”
The princess sprang up from her seat as if stung by an adder. Alexis
Razumovsky, who still knelt at her feet, uttered loud lamentations,
in which Woronzow and Grunstein soon joined. With calm triumph Lestocq
observed the effect produced by his words.
“What are you saying there?” at length Elizabeth breathlessly asked.
“I say that on the 18th of December the Princess Elizabeth is to be
married to Prince Louis of Brunswick, who has already come to St.
Petersburg for that purpose,” calmly answered Lestocq.
“And I say,” cried the princess, “that no such marriage will ever take
place!”
Lestocq shrugged his shoulders. “Princess Elizabeth is a gentle,
peace-loving, always suffering lamb,” he said.
“But Princess Elizabeth can become a tigress when it concerns the
defence of her holiest rights!” exclaimed the princess, pacing the room
in violent excitement.
“Ah,” she continued, “they are not then satisfied with delivering me
over to poverty and abandonment; it does not suffice them to see me so
deeply humiliated as to receive alms from this regent who occupies
the throne that belongs to me. They would rob me of my last and only
remaining blessing, my personal freedom! They would make my poor heart a
prisoner, and bind it with the chains and fetters of a marriage which I
abhor! No, no, I tell you that shall they never do.”
And the princess, quite beside herself with rage, stamped her feet and
doubled up her little hands into fists. Now was she her father’s real
and not unworthy daughter; Czar Peter’s bold and savage spirit flashed
from her eyes, his scorn and courageous determination spoke from her
wildly excited features. She saw not, she heard not what was passing
around her; she was wholly occupied with her own angry thoughts, and
with those dreadful images which the mere idea of marriage had conjured
up.
Her four favorites stood together at some distance, observing her with
silent sympathy.
“It is now for you, Alexis Razumovsky, to complete the work we have
begun,” whispered Lestocq to him. “Elizabeth loves you; you must nourish
in her this abhorrence of a marriage with the prince. You must make
yourself so loved, that she will dare all rather than lose you! We have
long enough remained in a state of abjectness; it is time to labor for
our advancement. To the work, to the work, Alexis Razumovsky! We must
make an empress of this Elizabeth, that she may raise us to wealth and
dignities!”
“Rely upon me,” whispered Alexis, “she must and shall join in our
plans.”
He approached the princess, who was walking the room in a state of the
most violent agitation, giving vent to her internal excitement and anger
in loud exclamations and bitter curses.
“I must therefore die!” sighed Alexis, pressing Elizabeth’s trembling
hand to his lips. “Kill me, princess, thrust a dagger in my heart, that
I at least may not live to see you married to another!”
“No, you shall not die,” cried Elizabeth, with fierce vehemence,
throwing her arms around Razumovsky’s neck. “I will know how to defend
you and myself, Alexis! Ah, they would shackle me,--they would force me
to marry, because they know I hate marriage. Yes, I hate those unnatural
fetters which could command my heart, force it into obedience to an
unnatural law, and degrade divine free love, which would flutter from
flower to flower, into a necessity and a duty. It is an unnatural
law which would compel us forever to love a man because he pleased us
yesterday or may please us to-day, and who perhaps may not please us
to-morrow, while on the next day he may excite only repugnance! Would
they forge these matrimonial chains for me? Ah, Regent Anna, you are
this time mistaken; you may be all-powerful in this empire, but you
cannot and shall not extend that power over me!”
“And how,” asked Lestocq, shrugging his shoulders, “how will Princess
Elizabeth oppose the regent or empress? What weapon has she with which
to contend?”
“If it must be so, I will oppose power to power!” passionately exclaimed
the princess. “Yes, when it comes to the defence of my freedom and my
personal rights I will then have the courage to dare all, defy all;
then will I shake off the lethargy of contented mediocrity, and upon the
throne will find that freedom which Anna would tread under foot!”
“Long live our future empress! Long live Elizabeth!” cried the men with
wild excitement.
“I have long withstood you, my friends,” said Elizabeth, “I have not
coveted this imperial Russian crown, but much less have I desired that
crown of thorns a compulsory marriage. I am now ready for the struggle,
and, if it must be so, let a revolution, let streams of blood decide
whether the Regent Anna Leopoldowna or the daughter of Peter the Great
has the best right to govern this land and prescribe its laws!”
“Ah, now are you really your great father’s great daughter!” cried
Lestocq, and bending a knee before the princess, he continued: “Let me
be the first to pay you homage, the first to swear eternal fidelity to
you, our Empress Elizabeth.”
“Receive also my oath, Empress Elizabeth,” said Alexis, falling upon his
knees before her, “receive the oaths of your slaves who desire nothing
but to devote their bodies and souls to your service!”
“Let me, also, do homage to you, Empress Elizabeth!” exclaimed Woronzow,
falling to the earth.
“And I, too, will lie at your feet and declare myself your slave,
Empress Elizabeth!” said Grunstein, kneeling with the others.
But Elizabeth’s anger was already past; only a momentary storm-wind had
lashed her gently flowing blood into the high foaming waves of rage; now
all again was calm within her, and consequently this solemn homage scene
of her four kneeling friends made only a comic impression upon her.
She burst into a loud laugh; astonished and half angry, the kneeling men
looked up to her, and that only increased her hilarity.
“Ah, this is infinitely amusing,” said the princess, continuing
to laugh; “there lie my vassals, and what vassals! Herr Lestocq, a
physician; Herr Grunstein, a bankrupt shopkeeper and now under-officer;
Herr Woronzow, chamberlain; and Alexis Razumovsky, my private secretary.
And here I am, the empress of such vassals, and what sort of an empress?
An empress of four subjects, an empress without a throne and without a
crown, without land and without a people--an empress who never was and
never will be an empress! And in this solemn buffoonery you cut such
serious faces as might make one die with laughter.”
The princess threw herself upon the divan and laughed until the tears
ran down her cheeks.
“Princess,” said Lestocq, rising, “these four men, at whom you now
laugh, will make you empress, and then it will be in your power to
convert this chirurgeon into a privy councillor and court physician,
this bankrupt merchant into a rich banker, this chamberlain into an
imperial lord-marshal, and your private secretary into a count or prince
of the empire.”
The eyes of the princess shone yet brighter, and with a tender glance at
Alexis Razumovsky she said: “Yes, I will make him a prince and overload
him with presents and honors. Ah, that is an object worth the pains of
struggling for an imperial crown.”
“No, no,” interposed Alexis, kissing her hand, “I need neither wealth
nor titles; I need nothing, desire nothing but to be near you, to be
able to breathe the air that has fanned your cheek. I desire nothing for
myself, but everything for my friends here, with whose faithful aid we
shall soon be enabled to greet you a real empress.”
Elizabeth’s brow beamed with the purest blessedness. “You are as
unselfish as the angels in heaven, my Alexis,” said she. “It suffices
you that I am Elizabeth, you languish not for this imperial title which
these others would force upon me.”
Alexis smilingly shook his fine head. “You err, princess,” said he; “I
would freely and joyfully give my heart’s blood, could I this day but
salute you as empress! I should then, at least, have no more to fear
from this strange prince whom they would compel you to marry!”
A cloud passed over the brow of the princess. “Yes, you are right,” said
she, “we must avoid that at all events, and if there are no other means,
very well, I shall know what to decide upon--I shall venture an attempt
to dethrone the regent and make myself empress! But, my friends, let
that now suffice. I need rest. Call my women to undress me, Woronzow.
Good-night, good-night, my high and lofty vassals, your great and
powerful empress allows you to kiss her hand!”
With a pleasing graciousness she extended her fair hands to her friends,
who respectfully pressed them to their lips and then departed.
“Alexis!” called the princess, as Razumovsky was about to withdraw
with the others--“Alexis, you will remain awhile. While my women
are undressing me, you shall sing me to sleep with that charming
slumber-song you sing so splendidly!”
Alexis smiled and remained.
A quarter of an hour later deep silence prevailed in the dark palace
of Elizabeth, and through the stillness of the night was heard only
the sweetly-melodious voice of the handsome Alexis, who was singing his
slumber-song to the princess.
From this day forward her four trusted friends left the princess no
peace. They so stormed her with prayers and supplications, Alexis
so well knew how to represent his despair at her approaching and
unavoidable marriage, that the amiable princess, to satisfy her friends
and be left herself at peace, declared herself ready to sanction the
plans of her confidants and enter into a conspiracy against the regent.
Soon a small party was formed for the cause of the princess.
Grunstein--who, as the princess had said, from a bankrupt merchant had
attained the position of subordinate officer--Grunstein had succeeded
in winning for the cause of the princess some fifty grenadiers of
the Preobrajensky regiment, to which he belonged; and these people,
drunkards and dissolute fellows, were the principal props upon which
Elizabeth’s throne was to be established! They were neither particular
about the means resorted to for the accomplishment of the proposed
revolution, nor careful to envelop their movements in secrecy.
Elizabeth soon began to find pleasure and distraction in exciting the
enthusiasm of the soldiers. She often repaired to the caserns of the
guards, and her mildness and affability won for her the hearts of the
rough soldiers accustomed to slavish subjection. When she rode through
the streets, it was not an unusual occurrence to see common soldiers
approach her sledge and converse familiarly with her. Wherever she
showed herself, there the soldiers received her with shouts, and the
palace of the princess was always open to them. In this way Elizabeth
made herself popular, and the Regent Anna, who was informed of it,
smiled at it with indifference.
Just as incautiously did Elizabeth’s fanatical political manager,
Lestocq, set about his work. He made no secret of his intercourse with
the French ambassador, and in the public coffee-houses he was often
heard in a loud voice to prophesy an approaching political change.
But with regard to all these imprudences it seemed as if the court and
the regent were blinded by the most careless confidence, as if they
could not see what was directly before their eyes. It was as if destiny
covered those eyes with a veil, that they might not see, and against
destiny even the great and the powerful of the earth struggle in vain.