Frederick the Great and His Family [327]
dancing flames. The fire seemed to embrace her whole figure, and threw a rosy shimmer over her wan and fallen cheeks. She gazed deep down into the glowing coals, and murmured broken, disconnected words. From time to time a mocking smile trembled on her lips, then heavy sighs wrung her breast. Was she perhaps telling the fire of the flames which raged within her bosom? Was she perhaps a magician, who understood the language of these mysterious tongues of flame, and answered their burning questions? The hasty opening of the door aroused her from her dreams, and a page entered and announced in a loud voice--"His majesty the king!"
Amelia bowed her head, and advanced slowly and with a stern countenance to meet the king, who now appeared at the threshold.
"May I enter, my sister, or do you command me to withdraw?" said Frederick, smiling.
"The king has no permission to ask," said Amelia, earnestly; "he is everywhere lord and master. The doors of all other prisons open before him, and so also do mine."
Frederick nodded to the page to leave the room and close the door, then advanced eagerly to meet his sister. Giving her his hands he led her to the divan, and seated himself beside her.
"You regard me then as a kind of jailer?" he said, in a gentle, loving voice.
"Can a king be any thing but a jailer?" she said, roughly. "Those who displease him, he arrests and casts into prison, and not one of his subjects can be sure that he will not one day displease him."
"You, at least, my sister, have not this to fear, and yet you have just called this your prison."
"It is a prison, sire."
"And am I, then, your jailer?"
"No, sire, life is my jailer."
"You are right, there, Amelia. Life is the universal jailer, from whom death alone can release us. The world is a great prison, and only fools think themselves free. But we are involuntarily commencing an earnest, philosophical conversation. I come to you to rest, to refresh myself; to converse harmlessly and cheerfully, as in our earlier and happier days. Tell me something, dear sister, of your life, your occupations, and your friends?"
"That is easily done, and requires but few words," said Amelia, hoarsely. "Of my life I have already told you all that can be said. Life is my jailer, and I look longingly to death, who alone can release me. As to my well-being, there is nothing to say; all is evil, only evil continually. My occupations are monotonous, I am ever asleep. Night and day I sleep and dream; and why should I awake? I have nothing to hope, nothing to do. I am a superfluous piece of furniture in this castle, and I know well you will all rejoice when I am placed in the vault. I am an old maid, or, if you prefer it, I am a wall-frog, who has nothing to do but creep into my hole, and, when I have vitality enough, to spit my venom upon the passers-by. As to my friends, I have nothing to relate; I have no friends! I hate all mankind, and I am hated by all. I am especially on my guard with those who pretend to love me; I know that they are deceitful and traitorous, that they are only actuated by selfish motives."
"Poor sister," said the king, sadly; "how unhappy must you be to speak thus! Can I do nothing to alleviate your misfortune?"
Amelia laughed loudly and scornfully. "Forgive me, your majesty, but your question reminds me of a merry fairy tale I have just read of a cannibal who is in the act of devouring a young girl. The poor child pleaded piteously for her life, naturally in vain. 'I cannot, of course, give you your life,' said the cannibal, 'but I will gladly grant you any other wish of your heart. Think, then, quickly, of what you most desire, and be assured I will fulfil your request.' The pretty maiden, trembling with horror and despair, could not collect her thoughts. Then, after a short pause, the cannibal said, 'I cannot wait; I am hungry! but in order to grant you a little longer time to determine upon the favor you will ask, I will not, as I am accustomed to do, devour the head first, I will commence with the feet.' So saying, he cut
Amelia bowed her head, and advanced slowly and with a stern countenance to meet the king, who now appeared at the threshold.
"May I enter, my sister, or do you command me to withdraw?" said Frederick, smiling.
"The king has no permission to ask," said Amelia, earnestly; "he is everywhere lord and master. The doors of all other prisons open before him, and so also do mine."
Frederick nodded to the page to leave the room and close the door, then advanced eagerly to meet his sister. Giving her his hands he led her to the divan, and seated himself beside her.
"You regard me then as a kind of jailer?" he said, in a gentle, loving voice.
"Can a king be any thing but a jailer?" she said, roughly. "Those who displease him, he arrests and casts into prison, and not one of his subjects can be sure that he will not one day displease him."
"You, at least, my sister, have not this to fear, and yet you have just called this your prison."
"It is a prison, sire."
"And am I, then, your jailer?"
"No, sire, life is my jailer."
"You are right, there, Amelia. Life is the universal jailer, from whom death alone can release us. The world is a great prison, and only fools think themselves free. But we are involuntarily commencing an earnest, philosophical conversation. I come to you to rest, to refresh myself; to converse harmlessly and cheerfully, as in our earlier and happier days. Tell me something, dear sister, of your life, your occupations, and your friends?"
"That is easily done, and requires but few words," said Amelia, hoarsely. "Of my life I have already told you all that can be said. Life is my jailer, and I look longingly to death, who alone can release me. As to my well-being, there is nothing to say; all is evil, only evil continually. My occupations are monotonous, I am ever asleep. Night and day I sleep and dream; and why should I awake? I have nothing to hope, nothing to do. I am a superfluous piece of furniture in this castle, and I know well you will all rejoice when I am placed in the vault. I am an old maid, or, if you prefer it, I am a wall-frog, who has nothing to do but creep into my hole, and, when I have vitality enough, to spit my venom upon the passers-by. As to my friends, I have nothing to relate; I have no friends! I hate all mankind, and I am hated by all. I am especially on my guard with those who pretend to love me; I know that they are deceitful and traitorous, that they are only actuated by selfish motives."
"Poor sister," said the king, sadly; "how unhappy must you be to speak thus! Can I do nothing to alleviate your misfortune?"
Amelia laughed loudly and scornfully. "Forgive me, your majesty, but your question reminds me of a merry fairy tale I have just read of a cannibal who is in the act of devouring a young girl. The poor child pleaded piteously for her life, naturally in vain. 'I cannot, of course, give you your life,' said the cannibal, 'but I will gladly grant you any other wish of your heart. Think, then, quickly, of what you most desire, and be assured I will fulfil your request.' The pretty maiden, trembling with horror and despair, could not collect her thoughts. Then, after a short pause, the cannibal said, 'I cannot wait; I am hungry! but in order to grant you a little longer time to determine upon the favor you will ask, I will not, as I am accustomed to do, devour the head first, I will commence with the feet.' So saying, he cut