Frederick the Great and His Family [67]
and pitiful hanger-on of a throne, despised and unloved, a burden only to my people, unless you give freedom and strength to my sick soul, which lies a prisoner at your feet. Wilhelmina, put an end to the tortures of the last few months, release me from the curse which binds my whole life in chains; speak but one word, and I shall have strength to govern the world, and prove to you that I am worthy of you. I will force the stars from heaven, and place them as a diadem upon your brow. Say only that you will try to love me, and I will thank you for happiness and fame."
Prince Henry was so filled with his passion and enthusiasm, that he did not remark the deadly pallor of Wilhelmina's face--that he did not see the look of anguish and horror with which her eyes rested for one moment upon him, then shrank blushingly and ashamed upon the floor. He seized her cold, nerveless hands, and pressed them to his heart; she submitted quietly. She seemed turned to stone.
"Be merciful, Wilhelmina; say that you forgive me--that you will try to love me."
The princess shuddered, and glanced up at him. "I must say that," murmured she, "and you have not once said that you love me."
The prince shouted with rapture, and, falling upon his knees, he exclaimed, "I love you! I adore you! I want nothing, will accept nothing, but you alone; you are my love, my hope, my future. Wilhelmina, if you do not intend me to die at your feet, say that you do not spurn me--open your arms and clasp me to your heart."
The princess stood immovable for a moment, trembling and swaying from side to side; her lips opened as if to utter a wild, mad cry-- pain was written on every feature. The prince saw nothing of this-- his lips were pressed upon her hand, and he did not look up--he did not see his wife press her pale lips tightly together to force back her cries of despair--he did not see that her eyes were raised in unspeakable agony to heaven.
The battle was over; the princess bowed over her husband, and her hands softly raised him from his knees. "Stand up, prince--I dare not see you lying at my feet. You have a right to my love--you are my husband."
Prince Henry clasped her closely, passionately in his arms.
CHAPTER IV.
THE FETE IN THE WOODS.
No fete was ever brighter and gayer than that of Rheinsberg. It is true, the courtly circle waited a long time before the beginning of their merry sports. Hours passed before the princely pair joined their guests in the music-saloon.
The sun of royalty came at last, shedding light and gladness. Never had the princess looked more beautiful--more rosy. She seemed, indeed, to blush at the consciousness of her own attractions. Never had Prince Henry appeared so happy, so triumphant, as to-day. His flashing eyes seemed to challenge the whole world to compete with his happiness; joy and hope danced in his eyes; never had he given so gracious, so kindly a greeting to every guest, as to-day.
The whole assembly was bright and animated and gave themselves up heartily to the beautiful idyl for which they had met together under the shadow of the noble trees in the fragrant woods of Rheinsberg. No gayer, lovelier shepherds and shepherdesses were ever seen in Arcadia, than those of Rheinsberg to-day. They laughed, and jested, and performed little comedies, and rejoiced in the innocent sports of the happy moment. Here wandered a shepherd and his shepherdess, chatting merrily; there, under the shadow of a mighty oak, lay a forlorn shepherd singing, accompanied by his zitter, a love-lorn ditty to his cruel shepherdess, who was leading two white lambs decked with ribbons, in a meadow near by, and replied to his tender pleading with mocking irony. Upon the little lake, in the neighborhood of which they had assembled, the snow-white swans swam majestically to and fro. The lovely shepherdesses stood upon the borders and enticed the swans around them, and laughed derisively at the shepherds who had embarked in the little boats, and were now driven sportively back in every direction, and could find no place
Prince Henry was so filled with his passion and enthusiasm, that he did not remark the deadly pallor of Wilhelmina's face--that he did not see the look of anguish and horror with which her eyes rested for one moment upon him, then shrank blushingly and ashamed upon the floor. He seized her cold, nerveless hands, and pressed them to his heart; she submitted quietly. She seemed turned to stone.
"Be merciful, Wilhelmina; say that you forgive me--that you will try to love me."
The princess shuddered, and glanced up at him. "I must say that," murmured she, "and you have not once said that you love me."
The prince shouted with rapture, and, falling upon his knees, he exclaimed, "I love you! I adore you! I want nothing, will accept nothing, but you alone; you are my love, my hope, my future. Wilhelmina, if you do not intend me to die at your feet, say that you do not spurn me--open your arms and clasp me to your heart."
The princess stood immovable for a moment, trembling and swaying from side to side; her lips opened as if to utter a wild, mad cry-- pain was written on every feature. The prince saw nothing of this-- his lips were pressed upon her hand, and he did not look up--he did not see his wife press her pale lips tightly together to force back her cries of despair--he did not see that her eyes were raised in unspeakable agony to heaven.
The battle was over; the princess bowed over her husband, and her hands softly raised him from his knees. "Stand up, prince--I dare not see you lying at my feet. You have a right to my love--you are my husband."
Prince Henry clasped her closely, passionately in his arms.
CHAPTER IV.
THE FETE IN THE WOODS.
No fete was ever brighter and gayer than that of Rheinsberg. It is true, the courtly circle waited a long time before the beginning of their merry sports. Hours passed before the princely pair joined their guests in the music-saloon.
The sun of royalty came at last, shedding light and gladness. Never had the princess looked more beautiful--more rosy. She seemed, indeed, to blush at the consciousness of her own attractions. Never had Prince Henry appeared so happy, so triumphant, as to-day. His flashing eyes seemed to challenge the whole world to compete with his happiness; joy and hope danced in his eyes; never had he given so gracious, so kindly a greeting to every guest, as to-day.
The whole assembly was bright and animated and gave themselves up heartily to the beautiful idyl for which they had met together under the shadow of the noble trees in the fragrant woods of Rheinsberg. No gayer, lovelier shepherds and shepherdesses were ever seen in Arcadia, than those of Rheinsberg to-day. They laughed, and jested, and performed little comedies, and rejoiced in the innocent sports of the happy moment. Here wandered a shepherd and his shepherdess, chatting merrily; there, under the shadow of a mighty oak, lay a forlorn shepherd singing, accompanied by his zitter, a love-lorn ditty to his cruel shepherdess, who was leading two white lambs decked with ribbons, in a meadow near by, and replied to his tender pleading with mocking irony. Upon the little lake, in the neighborhood of which they had assembled, the snow-white swans swam majestically to and fro. The lovely shepherdesses stood upon the borders and enticed the swans around them, and laughed derisively at the shepherds who had embarked in the little boats, and were now driven sportively back in every direction, and could find no place