Frederick the Great and His Family [113]
one were the butcher, the other the poor ox, who only resists because he does not wish to give up his life; and in this case all would be the butchers, and none the oxen, therefore each one gives his stroke bravely to preserve his own life."
"It would be sad if it were as you say," said Anna, shaking her head, "but it is not so. The true soldier does not think of his life; he thinks of his country, for which he will gladly shed his blood--of his king, to whom he has sworn to be true--and of the glory which he will gain for himself!"
Charles Henry looked in amazement upon Anna Sophia's agitated countenance.
"How do you know all this?" said he. "Who has told you that these are soldiers' thoughts?"
"I have read of it in my books, Charles Henry; in one of them there is the history of a man whose name was Leonidas. He defended, with three hundred of his soldiers, against many thousands of his enemy, a narrow passway. He well knew that he could not conquer; his soldiers also knew it, but they preferred death rather than the humiliation of laying down their weapons and praying for mercy. And every man of them died joyfully, giving up his life for his country."
"Well, I must say they were fools!" cried Charles Henry, excitedly;" if I had been there, I would not have done so--I would have sued for pardon."
"Yes," said Anna Sophia thoughtfully--"yes, I think you would have done as you say; and I have been wondering all through the past night whether you would willingly and joyfully go to battle?"
"I? God forefend; I will not go joyfully--I will not go at all! This morning I intend going to our pastor to receive from him a certificate, showing that I cannot join the army, as I have a decrepit old father to support, who would die without me."
"Charles Henry, your father is not decrepit, nor very old, nor would he starve if you were not here, for he can support himself."
"But he may, at any moment, become unable to help himself, and then he would need me; I would have no rest day or night when far away, but would be thinking if my poor old father, lying sick and helpless in his hut, with no one near to give him a piece of bread or a cup of water."
"Let not this trouble you, Charles Henry," said Anna, solemnly. "I swear to you that I will love him and care for him as a daughter. He shall want for nothing; and when he can work no longer, I am strong and healthy enough to work for both of us. Go with a peaceful mind, I will be here in your place."
"No, no!" cried Charles Henry, turning pale; "I will not join the army. I cannot, I will not be separated from you, Anna. You have sworn to be my wife, and I will beseech the pastor to join us to- day; then they cannot take me away from here, for I will have a father and a wife to take care of."
"Not for me, Charles Henry, for I will not marry yet. Have we saved enough to commence housekeeping? Is this a time to marry and build a nest, when war, misery, and ruin are raging throughout the country? No, no! Charles Henry, we cannot marry now."
"Because you do not wish it, Anna. But it shall be, for I have your promise, and you must keep it. Ah, Anna Sophia, you do not know what a longing I have to call you my wife!"
"But I have no such longing," said she, drily; "no desire whatever to marry; and I will tell you, that though you wish to marry to-day, it is not out of love for me, but to save yourself."
His eyes sunk before the large, searching ones fixed upon him.
"To save myself, and from what, Anna Sophia?"
"From being a soldier, Charles Henry! For last evening, I read upon your countenance that you were devoid of courage."
"You read that?"
"Yes, Charles Henry, fear was stamped upon your brow."
"Well, then," said he, after a pause, "you have read aright. I have no courage, I fear for myself. I am not accustomed to stand still, while some one is pointing his gun at me, and to cry, 'Long live the king!' when the cannon-balls are flying around me; to attack men who have done me no harm, and to whom I wish to do none. When I think upon the
"It would be sad if it were as you say," said Anna, shaking her head, "but it is not so. The true soldier does not think of his life; he thinks of his country, for which he will gladly shed his blood--of his king, to whom he has sworn to be true--and of the glory which he will gain for himself!"
Charles Henry looked in amazement upon Anna Sophia's agitated countenance.
"How do you know all this?" said he. "Who has told you that these are soldiers' thoughts?"
"I have read of it in my books, Charles Henry; in one of them there is the history of a man whose name was Leonidas. He defended, with three hundred of his soldiers, against many thousands of his enemy, a narrow passway. He well knew that he could not conquer; his soldiers also knew it, but they preferred death rather than the humiliation of laying down their weapons and praying for mercy. And every man of them died joyfully, giving up his life for his country."
"Well, I must say they were fools!" cried Charles Henry, excitedly;" if I had been there, I would not have done so--I would have sued for pardon."
"Yes," said Anna Sophia thoughtfully--"yes, I think you would have done as you say; and I have been wondering all through the past night whether you would willingly and joyfully go to battle?"
"I? God forefend; I will not go joyfully--I will not go at all! This morning I intend going to our pastor to receive from him a certificate, showing that I cannot join the army, as I have a decrepit old father to support, who would die without me."
"Charles Henry, your father is not decrepit, nor very old, nor would he starve if you were not here, for he can support himself."
"But he may, at any moment, become unable to help himself, and then he would need me; I would have no rest day or night when far away, but would be thinking if my poor old father, lying sick and helpless in his hut, with no one near to give him a piece of bread or a cup of water."
"Let not this trouble you, Charles Henry," said Anna, solemnly. "I swear to you that I will love him and care for him as a daughter. He shall want for nothing; and when he can work no longer, I am strong and healthy enough to work for both of us. Go with a peaceful mind, I will be here in your place."
"No, no!" cried Charles Henry, turning pale; "I will not join the army. I cannot, I will not be separated from you, Anna. You have sworn to be my wife, and I will beseech the pastor to join us to- day; then they cannot take me away from here, for I will have a father and a wife to take care of."
"Not for me, Charles Henry, for I will not marry yet. Have we saved enough to commence housekeeping? Is this a time to marry and build a nest, when war, misery, and ruin are raging throughout the country? No, no! Charles Henry, we cannot marry now."
"Because you do not wish it, Anna. But it shall be, for I have your promise, and you must keep it. Ah, Anna Sophia, you do not know what a longing I have to call you my wife!"
"But I have no such longing," said she, drily; "no desire whatever to marry; and I will tell you, that though you wish to marry to-day, it is not out of love for me, but to save yourself."
His eyes sunk before the large, searching ones fixed upon him.
"To save myself, and from what, Anna Sophia?"
"From being a soldier, Charles Henry! For last evening, I read upon your countenance that you were devoid of courage."
"You read that?"
"Yes, Charles Henry, fear was stamped upon your brow."
"Well, then," said he, after a pause, "you have read aright. I have no courage, I fear for myself. I am not accustomed to stand still, while some one is pointing his gun at me, and to cry, 'Long live the king!' when the cannon-balls are flying around me; to attack men who have done me no harm, and to whom I wish to do none. When I think upon the