THE QUEEN'S TAILOR.
A dreary silence had reigned for some time in the usually gay and happy
family circle of the worthy court tailor. No one dared to speak or
laugh aloud. M. Pricker, the crown and head of the house, was sad and
anxious, and the storm-cloud upon his brow threw a dark reflection upon
the faces of his wife and two children, the beautiful Anna, and the
active, merry Wilhelm, Even the assistants in the work-room were
affected by the general gloom; the gay songs of the apprentices were
silenced, and the pretty house-maids looked discontented and dull.
A tempest lowered over the house, and all appeared to tremble at its
approach. When Wilhelm, the son and heir of the house, returned from
his work, he hastened to his mother's room, and casting a curious
glance upon the old woman, who was seated on a sofa, grim-looking, and
supporting her head upon her hand, he said, mysteriously--
"Not yet!"
Mother Pricker shook her head, sighed deeply, and replied:
"Not yet!"
The beautiful Anna was generally in her elegant room, painting or
singing, and did not allow herself to be disturbed; but now when the
bell rang, or a strange step was heard, she hastened to her mother, and
said:
"Well, has it come?"
Again Mother Pricker sighed, shook her head, and answered--
"Not yet!"
M. Pricker asked nothing, demanded nothing; silent and proud he sat in
the midst of his family circle; stoically listened to the ringing of
the bell, and saw strangers enter his counting-room, too proud to show
any excitement. He wrapped himself in an Olympian silence, and
barricaded himself from the curious questions of his children by the
stern reserve of parental authority.
"I see that he suffers," said his wife to her daughter Anna; "I see
that he looks paler every day, and eats less and less; if this painful
anxiety endures much longer, the poor man will become dangerously ill,
and the king will be answerable for the death of one of his noblest and
best subjects."
"But why does our father attach such importance to this small affair?"
said Anna, with a lofty shrug of her shoulders.
Mother Pricker looked at her with astonishment.
"You call this a small affair, which concerns not only the honor of
your father, but that of your whole family; which affects the position
and calling enjoyed by the Pricker family for a hundred years? It is a
question whether your father shall be unjustly deprived of his
honorable place, or have justice done him, and his great services
acknowledged!"
Anna gave a hearty laugh.
"Dear mother, you look at this thing too tragically; you are making a
camel of a gnat. The great and exalted things of which you speak have
nothing to do with the matter; it is a simple question of title. The
great point is, will our father receive the title of 'court tailor' to
the reigning queen, or be only the tailor of the queen-dowager. It
seems to me the difference is very small, and I cannot imagine why so
much importance is attached to it."
"You do not understand," sighed Mother Pricker; "you do not love your
family; you care nothing for the honor of your house!"
"Pshaw! to be the daughter of a tailor is a very poor and doubtful
honor," said Anna, drearily, "even if he is the tailor of one or even
two queens. Our father is rich enough to live without this contemptible
business; yes, to live in style. He has given his children such an
education as nobles only receive; I have had my governess and my
music-teacher; my brother his tutor; my father has not allowed him to
walk through the streets, fearing that he might fall into the hands of
the recruiting-officers. We have each our private rooms, beautifully
furnished, and are the envy of all our friends. Why, notwithstanding
all this, will he condemn us to be and to continue to be the children
of a tailor? Why does he not tear down the sign from the door; this
sign, which will be ever a humiliation, even though 'court tailor'
should be written upon it! This title will never enable us to appear at
court, and the noble cavaliers will never think of marrying the
daughter of a tailor, though many would seek to do so if our father
would give up his needlework, buy a country seat, and live, as rich and
distinguished men do, upon his estate."
"Child, child, what are you saying?" cried Mother Pricker, clasping her
hands with anguish. "Thy father give up his stand, his honorable stand,
which, for more than a hundred years, has been inherited by the family!
Thy father demean himself to buy with his honorably-earned gold a
son-in-law from amongst the poor nobles, who will be ever thinking of
the honor done us in accepting thee and thy sixty thousand dollars! Thy
father buy a country-seat, and spend in idleness that fortune which his
forefathers and himself have been collecting for hundreds of years!
That can never be, and never will your father consent to your marriage
with any other man than an honest burgher; and he will never allow
Wilhelm to have any other calling than that of his father, his
grandfather, and his great-grandfather, a court tailor."
The beautiful Anna stamped involuntarily upon the floor, and a flush of
scorn spread itself over her soft cheek. "I will not wed a burgher,"
said she, tossing her head proudly back, "and my brother Wilhelm will
never carry on the business of his father."
"Then your father will disinherit you--cast you out amongst strangers
to beg your bread," said the old woman, wringing her hands.
"God be thanked," said Anna proudly, "there is no necessity for begging
our bread; we have learned enough to carry us honorably through the
world, and when all else fails, I have a capital in my voice which
assures me a glittering future. The king will found an opera-house, and
splendid singers are so rare that Prussia will thank God if I allow
myself to be prevailed upon to take the place of prima donna."
"Oh! unhappy, wretched child!" sobbed Mother Pricker, "you will
dishonor your family, you will make us miserable, and cover us with
shame; you will become an actress, and we must live to see our
respectable, yes, celebrated name upon a play-bill, and pasted upon
every corner."
"You will have the honor of hearing all the world speak of your
daughter, of seeing sweet flowers and wreaths thrown before her
whenever she appears, and of seeing her praises in every number of
every journal in Berlin. I shall be exalted to the skies, and the
parents called blessed who have given me life."
"These are the NEW ideas," gasped out her mother--"the new ideas which
are now the mode, and which our new king favors. Alas! wailing and
sorrow will come over our whole city; honor and principle will
disappear, and destruction like that of Sodom and Gomorrah will fall
upon Berlin! These are the alluring temptations with which Baron
Pollnitz fills your ear and crushes in your heart the worthy and seemly
principles of your family. That,"--suddenly she stopped and listened;
it seemed to her the bell rung; truly there was a step upon the stairs,
and some one asked for M. and Madame Pricker.
"Pollnitz," whispered Anna, and a glowing blush overspread her face,
throat, and neck.
"The Baron Pollnitz, the master of ceremonies," said Madame Pricker,
with a mixture of joy and alarm.
The door flew open, and with a gay, frolicsome greeting, Pollnitz
danced into the room; Anna had turned to the window, and made no reply
to his greeting. Madame Pricker stepped toward him, and greeted him
with the most profound reverence, calling him master of ceremonies and
master of the bed-chamber.
"Not so," said Pollnitz; "why so much reverence and so many titles? I
am indeed master of ceremonies, but without the title. His majesty, the
young king, has no special fondness for renewing the titles lent to us
by his blessed father, and every prayer and every representation to
that effect has been in vain; he considers titles ridiculous and
superfluous."
Madame Pricker turned pale, and murmured some incomprehensible words.
Anna, however, who had up to this time been turned toward the window,
suddenly looked at the two speakers, and fixed her great eyes
questioningly upon the baron.
"Ah, at last I have the honor to see you, fair, beautiful Anna!" said
Pollnitz; "I knew well some magic was necessary to fix those splendid
eyes on me. Allow me to kiss your hand, most honored lady, and forgive
me if I have disturbed you." Ho flew with an elegant pirouette to Anna,
and took her hand, which she did not extend to him, and, indeed,
struggled to withhold; he then turned again to Madame Pricker, and
bowing to her, said, with a solemn pathos: "I am not here to-day simply
as the friend of the house, but as the ambassador of the king; and I
beseech the honored Madame Pricker to announce to her husband that I
wish to speak to him, and to deliver a message from the queen."
Madame Pricker uttered a cry of joy, and forgetting all other
considerations, hastened to the counting-room of her husband, to make
known to him the important information.
Baron Pollnitz watched her till the door closed, then turned to Anna,
who still leaned immovable in the window. "Anna, dearest Anna,"
whispered he tenderly, "at last we are alone! How I have pined for you,
how happy I am to see you once again!"
He sought to press her fondly to his heart, but the maiden waved him
proudly and coldly back. "Have you forgotten our agreement?" said she,
earnestly.
"No, I have held your cruelty in good remembrance; only, when I have
fulfilled all your commands, will you deign to listen to my glowing
wishes; when I have induced your father to employ for you another
singing-master, and arranged for your glorious and heavenly voice to be
heard by the king and the assembled court?"
"Yes," cried Anna, with glowing eyes and burning cheeks, "that is my
aim, my ambition. Yes, I will be a singer; all Europe shall resound
with my fame; all men shall lie at my feet; and princes and queens
shall seek to draw me into their circles."
"And I will be the happiest of the happy, when the lovely nightingale
has reached the goal. From my hand shall she first wing her flight to
fame. But, when I have fulfilled my word, when you have sung in the
royal palace before the queen and the court, then will YOU fulfil your
promise? Then Pollnitz will be the happiest of mortals."
"I will fulfil my word," she said, as proudly and imperiously as if she
were already the celebrated and grace-dispensing prima donna. "On the
day in which I sing for the first time before the king--the day in
which the tailor's daughter has purified herself from the dishonor of
her humble birth, and becomes a free, self-sustaining, distinguished
artist--on that day we will have no reason to be ashamed of our love,
and we can both, without humiliation, present our hearts to each other.
Baron Pollnitz can take for his wife, without blushing, the woman
ennobled by art, and Prima Donna Anna Pricker need not be humbled by
the thought that Baron Pollnitz has forgotten his rank in his choice of
a wife."
Baron Pollnitz, courtier as he was, had not his features so completely
under control as to conceal wholly the shock conveyed by the words of
his beautiful sweetheart. He stared for a moment, speechless, into that
lovely face, glowing with enthusiasm, ambition, and love. A mocking,
demoniac smile appeared one moment on his lips, then faded quickly, and
Pollnitz was again the tender, passionate lover of Anna Pricker. "Yes,
my dearly-beloved Anna," whispered he, clasping her in his arms, "on
that blessed and happy day you will be my wife, and the laurels
entwined in your hair will be changed into a myrtle-wreath." He
embraced her passionately, and she resisted no longer, but listened
ever to his words, which, like sweet opium, poisoned both the ear and
heart of the young girl. But Pollnitz released her suddenly, and
stepped back, colder and more self-possessed than Anna. He had heard a
light, approaching step. "Some one comes; be composed, dear one; your
face betrays too much of your inward emotion." He danced to the open
piano and played a merry strain, while Anna hid her blushes in the
branches of a geranium placed in the window, and tried to cool her
glowing cheeks on the fresh green leaves.
Madame Pricker opened the door, and bade the master of ceremonies enter
the adjoining room, where M. Pricker awaited him.