Frederick the Great and His Family [37]
for you must prove that you have means enough to live in a decent manner, and it appears to me--"
"That we do not possess them," said the king; "vraiment, you are right, our means are very insufficient, and as the inhabitants of Grave will not grant us the rights of citizens, it is better for us to leave immediately. Have, therefore, the goodness to furnish us with the means of doing so."
"There are two ways, an expensive and a cheap one," said Niclas, proudly: "extra post, or the drag-boat. The first is for respectable people, the second for those who have nothing, and are nothing."
"Then the last is for us," said the king, laughing. "Is it not so, brother Henry?--it is best for us to go in the drag-boat."
"That would be best, brother Frederick."
"Have the kindness to call our servant to take the bag, and you, Mr. Niclas, please give us a guide to show us to the canal."
The king took his box and approached the door.
"And my coffee, and the wine," asked Mrs. Niclas, just entering with the drinks.
"We have no time to make use of them, madame," said the king, as he passed her, to leave the room.
But Madame Niclas held him back.
"No time to make use of them," she cried; "but I had to take time to make the coffee, and bring the wine from the cellar."
"Mais, mon Dieu, madame," said the impatient king.
"Mais, mon Dieu, monsieur, vous croyez que je travaillerai pour le roi de Prusse, c'est-a-dire sans paiement."
The king broke out into a hearty laugh, and Balby had to join him, but much against his will.
"Brother Henry," said the king, laughing, "that is a curious way of speaking; 'travailler pour le roi de Prusse,' means here to work for nothing. I beg you to convince this good woman that she has not worked for the King of Prussia, and pay her well. Madame, I have the honor to bid you farewell, and be assured it will always cheer me to think of you, and to recall your charming speech."
The king laughingly took his friend's arm, and nodded kindly to Madame Niclas as he went down the steps.
"I tell you what," said Madame Niclas, as she stood at the door with her husband, watching the departing strangers, who, in company with the guide and their servant, were walking down the street that led to the canal--"I tell you I do not trust those strangers, the little one in particular; he had a very suspicious look."
"But his passport was all right."
"But, nevertheless, all is not right with them. These strangers are disguised princes or robbers, I am fully convinced."
CHAPTER XIII.
THE DRAG-BOAT.
What a crowd, what noise, what laughing and chatting! How bright and happy these people are who have nothing and are nothing! How gayly they laugh and talk together--with what stoical equanimity they regard the slow motion of the boat! They accept it as an unalterable necessity. How kindly they assist each other; with what natural politeness the men leave the best seats for the women!
The boat is very much crowded. There are a great number of those amiable people who are nothing, and have nothing, moving from place to place cheerily.
The men on the shore who, with the aid of ropes, are pulling the boat, those two-legged horses, groan from exertion. The bagpipe player is making his gayest music, but in vain--he cannot allure the young people to dance; there is no place for dancing, the large deck of the boat is covered with human beings. Old men, and even women, are obliged to stand; the two long benches running down both sides of the boat are filled.
The king enjoyed the scene immensely. The free life about him, the entire indifference to his own person, charmed and delighted him. He leaned against the cabin, by which he was sitting, and regarded the crowd before him. Suddenly he was touched on the shoulder, and not in the gentlest manner. Looking up, he met the discontented face of a peasant, who was speaking violently, but in Dutch, and the king did not understand him; he therefore slightly shrugged his shoulders and remained quiet.
The angry peasant continued
"That we do not possess them," said the king; "vraiment, you are right, our means are very insufficient, and as the inhabitants of Grave will not grant us the rights of citizens, it is better for us to leave immediately. Have, therefore, the goodness to furnish us with the means of doing so."
"There are two ways, an expensive and a cheap one," said Niclas, proudly: "extra post, or the drag-boat. The first is for respectable people, the second for those who have nothing, and are nothing."
"Then the last is for us," said the king, laughing. "Is it not so, brother Henry?--it is best for us to go in the drag-boat."
"That would be best, brother Frederick."
"Have the kindness to call our servant to take the bag, and you, Mr. Niclas, please give us a guide to show us to the canal."
The king took his box and approached the door.
"And my coffee, and the wine," asked Mrs. Niclas, just entering with the drinks.
"We have no time to make use of them, madame," said the king, as he passed her, to leave the room.
But Madame Niclas held him back.
"No time to make use of them," she cried; "but I had to take time to make the coffee, and bring the wine from the cellar."
"Mais, mon Dieu, madame," said the impatient king.
"Mais, mon Dieu, monsieur, vous croyez que je travaillerai pour le roi de Prusse, c'est-a-dire sans paiement."
The king broke out into a hearty laugh, and Balby had to join him, but much against his will.
"Brother Henry," said the king, laughing, "that is a curious way of speaking; 'travailler pour le roi de Prusse,' means here to work for nothing. I beg you to convince this good woman that she has not worked for the King of Prussia, and pay her well. Madame, I have the honor to bid you farewell, and be assured it will always cheer me to think of you, and to recall your charming speech."
The king laughingly took his friend's arm, and nodded kindly to Madame Niclas as he went down the steps.
"I tell you what," said Madame Niclas, as she stood at the door with her husband, watching the departing strangers, who, in company with the guide and their servant, were walking down the street that led to the canal--"I tell you I do not trust those strangers, the little one in particular; he had a very suspicious look."
"But his passport was all right."
"But, nevertheless, all is not right with them. These strangers are disguised princes or robbers, I am fully convinced."
CHAPTER XIII.
THE DRAG-BOAT.
What a crowd, what noise, what laughing and chatting! How bright and happy these people are who have nothing and are nothing! How gayly they laugh and talk together--with what stoical equanimity they regard the slow motion of the boat! They accept it as an unalterable necessity. How kindly they assist each other; with what natural politeness the men leave the best seats for the women!
The boat is very much crowded. There are a great number of those amiable people who are nothing, and have nothing, moving from place to place cheerily.
The men on the shore who, with the aid of ropes, are pulling the boat, those two-legged horses, groan from exertion. The bagpipe player is making his gayest music, but in vain--he cannot allure the young people to dance; there is no place for dancing, the large deck of the boat is covered with human beings. Old men, and even women, are obliged to stand; the two long benches running down both sides of the boat are filled.
The king enjoyed the scene immensely. The free life about him, the entire indifference to his own person, charmed and delighted him. He leaned against the cabin, by which he was sitting, and regarded the crowd before him. Suddenly he was touched on the shoulder, and not in the gentlest manner. Looking up, he met the discontented face of a peasant, who was speaking violently, but in Dutch, and the king did not understand him; he therefore slightly shrugged his shoulders and remained quiet.
The angry peasant continued