OLD AND NEW SUFFERING.
The cavalier stood quietly some minutes, showing no sympathy for the
poor insensible woman, and making no effort to arouse her to
consciousness; he examined her face searchingly and curiously, not from
sympathy for her sad condition, but with cold egotism, thinking only of
his own special object.
"Hum," murmured he, "in spite of pallor and attenuation, there are yet
traces of great beauty. I am sure if well nourished and well clothed
she may yet allure the heart which must be ever touched with pity for
her mournful fate; besides, she is poor--hopelessly, despairingly poor.
The husband is a drunkard, the children cry for bread; she is so poorly
clad, so pale, so thin; hunger has been her only lover. Under these
circumstances she will readily adopt my plans, and be my willing tool;
she will acknowledge me as her master, and by God I will teach her how
to bind this headstrong fool in chains. He has so far escaped all the
pitfalls which Fredersdorf and myself have so adroitly laid for him.
Dorris shall be the Delilah who will tame this new Samson. Truly," he
continued, as he cast a look of contempt upon the senseless form lying
before him, "truly it is a desperate attempt to transform this dirty,
pale, thin woman into a Delilah. But the past is powerfully in her
favor, and my Samson has a heart full of melting pity and sensibility;
moreover all previous efforts have failed, and it is pardonable to seek
for extraordinary means in our despair. So to work! to work!"
He took from his pocket a small phial of English salts, held it to her
nose, and rubbed her temples with a small sponge. "Ah, she moves," he
said, resting for a moment from his work, and looking coldly and
curiously upon the poor woman, who, with a shudder of newly-awakened
life, now turned her head, and whose convulsed lips uttered short sighs
and piteous complaints. Pollnitz rubbed her temples again with the
strong salts, and then, as he saw that consciousness was more and more
restored, he raised her from the floor, and placed her softly in a
chair. "Auso armes, auso armes," muttered he. "La battaille commencera."
The woman opened her eyes, and they wandered with an anxious and
questioning look here and there, then fell upon the stranger, who, with
a smiling and observant glance, followed every movement. Her eyes were
fixed and staring, her features expressed terror and scorn, her whole
form was convulsed, she was still half dreaming, half unconscious. But
her eye was immovably placed upon him, and she murmured in low tones,
"I know this face--yes, I know this cold, smiling face, I have FELT it
twice! When was it? was it only in fearful dreams, or was it a
frightful reality? When, where did I see this cold, devilish smile,
this face so cold and heartless, so full of iron egotism?"
"Truly, she does not flatter," murmured Pollnitz, but without changing
for one moment his watchful but friendly mien. "I am curious to see if
she will at last recognize me."
"Pollnitz!" cried she at last, with flaming eyes. "Yes, it is you! I
know you! you are Baron Pollnitz! Who gave you the right to enter this
house? what brings you here?"
"I repeat your question," he replied, smiling, "what brought you here,
here in this gloomy, miserable room; here where hunger and wailing have
their dwelling; here where misery grins upon you with hollow-eyed
terror? What do you here, Dorris Ritter?"
She trembled convulsively at this name, her cheeks were dyed purple,
and in another moment became ghastly pale. "Why do you call me Dorris
Ritter?" she cried, with gasping breath, "why remind me of the past,
which stands like a dark spectre ever behind me, and grins upon me with
bloody and shameful horrors?" Lost wholly in these fearful
remembrances, she stared before her, thinking no more of Pollnitz,
forgetting that his watchful and heartless eyes were ever fixed upon
her. "Dorris Ritter!" she cried, slowly, "Dorris Ritter! where are you?
why do they call you by thy name? Can they not remember that you are a
sleep walker wandering on the edge of a precipice, into which you must
fall headlong if awakened by the sound of your name, Dorris Ritter?"
she said, more loudly, fixing her eye upon Pollnitz; "how dare you call
my name, and tear me shrieking from my grave!"
"Now, that is exactly what I wish," said Pollnitz; "I will raise you
from this lowly and forgotten grave; you shall forget what you have
suffered; you shall be rich, happy, distinguished, and envied."
"I!" cried she, with mocking laughter, "and you will make that of me!
You, Baron Pollnitz, you, who were partly the cause of my misery, and
who looked smilingly upon my shame! What, then, what have I done to
deserve so much shame and sorrow? My God!" cried she, in heartrending
tones, "my heart was pure and innocent; I dared raise my head without
fear, and look God and my parents in the face; even before HIM, my
prince, I needed not to cast down MY eyes; I was innocent, and he loved
me because he could also respect me. Alas! it was so silent, so
resigned a love; it asked for nothing, it had no speech. Was it our
fault that others saw and pointed out this love without words, and
which eyes of innocence only expressed? We stood far removed from each
other, and a gulf lay between us, but heavenly music formed a golden
starry bridge over this abyss, and the holy and melodious tones
whispered to our young hearts, the complaints and longings of a
speechless, self-renouncing love. Only thus, only thus, a sweet dream,
and nothing more! Then you came to awaken us, to accuse the prince of
high treason, to make of me a miserable prostitute. You cast my love,
which I had only confessed to my Father in heaven, like a dirty libel
and foul fruit in my face; you wished to spot and stain my whole being,
and you succeeded; you crushed my existence under your feet, and left
me not one blossom of hope! Oh, I will never forget how you tore me
from the arms of my poor father! how you cast me into prison and
chained my hands, because in the anguish of my shame and my despair I
tried to take that life which you had dishonored! They came at last,
and dragged me before the king. Two men were with him, one with a
common red and swollen visage, with thick, lascivious lips, with red
and watery eyes--that was Grumbkow; the other, with the fine friendly
face, with the everlasting deceitful smile, the cold, contemptuous,
heartless glance, that was you, Baron Pollnitz. Ah, with what horrible
glances did these three men look upon me! what mockery and contempt did
their cruel voices express! I threw myself at the feet of the king; I
prayed to him for mercy and grace; he kicked me from him, and shamed me
with words and accusations which made my soul blush. I swore that I was
innocent; that no sin lay upon me; that I had never been the beloved of
the prince; that I had never spoken to him but in the presence of my
father. Then laughed they, and mocked me, and loudest of all laughed
Baron Pollnitz, and his words of scoffing and insult pierced my heart
like a poisoned arrow, and checked my flowing tears."
"It is true," murmured Pollnitz; "she has forgotten nothing."
"Forgotten!" cried she, with a wild laugh, "can I forget that I was
driven through the streets like a wild beast; that I was stripped by
the rough hands of the hangman's boy; that I heard behind me the
scoffings and insults of the wild mob hired for the occasion; that I
felt upon my naked back the cruel blows of the executioner's whip? Oh,
I have borne, and I have suffered; I did not become a maniac, I did not
curse God, but I prayed to my Father in heaven as I ran like a baited
wild beast through the streets. I saw that all the houses were closed,
that no one stood at the windows; no one had the courage to look upon
my path of martyrdom, and it comforted me even in the midst of my
torture, and I blessed those men who were pitiful to me, and who
appeared to bear testimony to my innocence by refusing to witness my
cruel punishment, and I ran further, and the hot blood flowed down my
back. Suddenly I came upon a house which was not closed, the door was
open, before it stood the servants and pointed the finger of scorn at
me, and mocked and jeered at me. On the balcony stood Baron Pollnitz,
with his stony, heartless face! Then I uttered a cry of rage and
revenge, then my prayers were hushed or changed into wild curses, and I
yelled and howled in my heart: he is guilty of my shame, he with his
cruel jests, his pitiless sneers, has poisoned the ear of the king, has
destroyed the last doubt of my guilt in the heart of his majesty.
Disgrace and shame upon Baron Pollnitz! may he be despised, lonely, and
neglected in the hour of death; may remorse, the worm of conscience,
feed upon his soul, and drive him hither and thither, restless and
homeless all his life long!"
She uttered a wild cry, and sank back powerless and broken in her chair.
Baron Pollnitz was self-possessed and smiling throughout; he laid his
hand upon the nerveless arm of the sobbing woman, and said with a soft,
flattering tone:
"It is true I have done you injustice, but I have come to make amends
for the past. You shall yet raise your head proudly, and no one shall
doubt of your innocence."
She shook her head sadly. "How can that help me? My father died of
shame; my husband, who married me from pity and because I had a poor
two thousand crowns, could not bear that men should flee from me as
from a branded culprit; this grief drove him to drink, and when he
comes home drunk at night, he beats me and shames me; the next morning
he prays, with strong crying and tears, for forgiveness, but goes again
and begins anew the same sad existence. My children!"
She could say no more; her words were choked with tears, as she thought
of the hard and frightful language her little boy had used to her that
morning.
Pollnitz was weary of the complaints and sobs of this wretched woman.
"Weep no more," said he; "weeping makes the eyes red, and you must
henceforth be lovely and attractive; if you will follow my advice you
and your children will once more be joyful and happy. I will send you
beautiful clothing, and I know an adroit person who will make you
charmingly attractive, and at the same time arrange your toilet with
such enchanting grace that you will pass for the 'Mater dolorosa' and
the beautiful Magdalen in the same person. Then will I lead you to the
king; then will he read in your lovely and noble face the touching and
innocent story of his first love; it will then rest with you, who have
so long been covered with dust and ashes, to kindle again the spark of
your dead love, and find in his tenderness the reward and compensation
for all the bitter past."
She looked at him with flaming eyes, and her glance was so piercing
that even Pollnitz felt a little embarrassed, and involuntarily cast
his eyes to the ground.
"Has the king sent you here with this message?"
"No, not the king; but I know that he thinks of you with love and pity,
and that he would be happy to find you."
"If that is so, let him come to seek me. I will not go to him--I am the
injured and dishonored one; it is his duty to repair my wrongs. But he
will not come--I know it. I read it to-day in his face. The world has
killed his heart; it has turned to stone in his breast--a gravestone
for his dear-loved Katt and for Dorris Ritter."
"He will come; I say to you he will! Hear me, Dorris; you will not go
to him? Well, then, expect him here, and prepare yourself in such a way
to receive him as to make an impression upon his heart; study carefully
your part; revolve every word which you will say to him; consider every
glance with which you will look upon him; put on the clothes which I
will send you, and banish your husband and your children."
"My children!" cried she, trembling; "no, no, only as a mother--only
under the protection of their innocent presence will I ever see him;
only for my children will I receive his sympathy and grace."
Pollnitz stamped involuntarily with his feet upon the floor, and
muttered curses from between his tightly-pressed lips.
"Do you not understand that our whole scheme will fail unless you do
exactly as I tell you; that you will attain nothing unless you begin
wisely and prudently? You say the king has no heart; well, then, he has
intellect, and this you must flatter; through this you may, perhaps,
warm his stony heart; you must not trust wholly to the majesty of your
misfortunes, but advance to meet him in the grace and glory of your
beauty; by your soft eyes you must work upon his heart; not with your
tears, but by enchanting smiles, he may be won."
She looked at him with proud and contemptuous glances.
"Go!" said she; "go! we have nothing to do with each other. I would
curse you and seek to revenge myself upon you for the new dishonor
which you have put upon me by your shameless words, but I know I have
not the right to resent. I am a degraded, dishonored woman, and all men
believe they have the right to insult me and to mock at my misfortunes.
Go!"
"You command me, then, to leave you; you will not heed the voice of a
well-meaning friend; you--"
"Baron Pollnitz," said she, with a voice tremulous with scorn, "I say
go! drive me not to extremity. Shall I call upon the neighbors to
relieve me from the presence of one I abhor, who disregards the
sanctity of my poor house, and abuses and sneers at a woman who hates
him? Go, and let me never see your face or hear your voice again!"
"Well, then, I will go; farewell, dear Madame Schommer; but I will come
again, and perhaps I may be so happy as to find in your place the
enchanting Dorris Ritter, that sentimental young maiden of the past,
who loved the crown prince so passionately, and was so well pleased to
receive his love and his presents."
He laughed aloud, and left the dreary room with a courtly pirouette;
with quick steps he hastened through the shop, and opening the door
which led into the street, he kicked the two children who were sitting
on the threshold to one side, and rushed into the street.
"She is truly proud yet," murmured he, shrugging his shoulders. "The
hangman's whip did not humble her--that pleases me; and I am more than
ever convinced we will succeed with her; she must and shall be beloved
of the king; and as she will not go to him, well, then, I will bring
him to her. To-morrow the king will visit the site chosen for the
palace of the queen-mother: that will be a glorious opportunity to
induce him to enter her hut."
Dorris Bitter had risen, and with uplifted arm and a proud glance she
had followed Pollnitz. Her whole being was in feverish excitement. In
this hour she was no more a poor, disheartened woman, from whom all
turned away with contempt, but a proud wife conscious of her honor and
her worth, who commanded her persecutor from her presence; who asked no
mercy or grace, and demanded a recognition of her purity.
As the steps of the baron faded away, and Dorris was again alone, her
feverish excitement subsided, and she was again a poor, pallid,
trembling, humble woman. With a cry of the most profound woe she sank
back in her chair, and stared long before her. Suddenly she murmured
from between her tightly-compressed lips: "Woe to him! woe to him! when
he forgets what I have suffered for him; woe to him, if he does not
remove the shame which crushes me! woe to him, if he despises me as
others do! Then will Dorris Eitter be his irreconcilable enemy, and she
will take vengeance so true as there is a God over us!"