Berlin and Sans-Souci Part 10

"More uncertain than April," said Ulrica, sweetly. "But what would you, sir? we all, brothers and sisters, are responsible for that.

You must know that she is our favorite, and is always indulged. I counsel you not to find fault with our little sister, Count Tessin; that would be to bring an accusation against us all. You have suffered to-day from a shower of her April moods; to-morrow you may rejoice in the suns.h.i.+ne of her favor."

"I shall, however, be doubtful and anxious," said the amba.s.sador, coolly; "the April sun is sometimes accompanied by rain and storm, and these sudden changes bring sickness and death."

"Allow me to make one request," said Ulrica. "Let not the king guess that you have suffered from these April changes."

"Certainly not; and if your royal highness will graciously allow me to bask in the suns.h.i.+ne of your presence, I shall soon recover from the chilling effect of these April showers."

"Well, I think we have played our parts admirably," said Ulrica to herself, as she found time, during the course of the evening, to meditate upon the events of the day. "Amelia will accomplish her purpose, and will not be Queen of Sweden. She would have it so, and I shall not reproach myself."

Princess Ulrica leaned comfortably back in her arm-chair, and gave her attention to a play of Voltaire, which was now being performed.

This representation took place in the small theatre in the royal palace. There was no public theatre in Berlin, and the king justly p.r.o.nounced the large opera-house unsuited to declamation. Frederick generally gave his undivided attention to the play, but this evening he was restless and impatient, and he accorded less applause to this piquant and witty drama of his favorite author than he was wont to do. The king was impatient, because the king was waiting. He had so far restrained all outward expression of his impatient curiosity; the French play had not commenced one moment earlier than usual.

Frederick had, according to custom, gone behind the scenes, to say a few friendly and encouraging words to the performers, to call their attention to his favorite pa.s.sages, and exhort them to be truly eloquent in their recitations. And now the king waited; he felt feverishly impatient to see and judge for himself this capricious beauty, this world-renowned artiste, this Signora Barbarina, whose rare loveliness and grace enchanted and bewildered all who looked upon her.

At length the curtain fell. In a few moments he would see the Barbarina dance her celebrated solo. A breathless stillness reigned throughout the a.s.sembly; every eye was fixed upon the curtain. The bell sounded, the curtain flew up, and a lovely landscape met the eye: in the background a village church, rose-bushes in rich bloom, and shady trees on every side; the declining sun gilded the summit of the mountain, against the base of which the little village nestled. The distant sound of the evening bell was calling the simple cottagers to "Ave Maria." It was an enchanting picture of innocence and peace; in striking contrast to this courtly a.s.semblage, glittering with gems and starry orders--a startling opposite to that sweet, pure idyl. And now this select circle seemed agitated as by an electric shock. There, upon the stage, floated the Signora Barbarina.

The king raised himself involuntarily a little higher in his arm- chair, in order to examine the signora more closely; he leaned back, however, ashamed of his impatience, and a light cloud was on his brow; he felt himself oppressed and overcome by this magical beauty.

He who had looked death in the face without emotion, who had seen the deadly cannon-b.a.l.l.s falling thickly around him without a trembling of the eyelids, now felt a presentiment of danger, and shrank from it.

Barbarina was indeed lovely, irresistibly lovely, in her ravis.h.i.+ng costume of a shepherdess; her dress was of crimson satin, her black velvet bodice was fastened over her voluptuous bosom by rich golden cords, finished off by ta.s.sels glittering with diamonds. A wreath of crimson roses adorned her hair, which fell in graceful ringlets about her wondrous brow, and formed a rich frame around her pure, oval face. The dark incarnate of her full, ripe lip contrasted richly with the light, rosy blush of her fair, smooth cheek.

Barbarina's smile was a promise of love and bliss; and, when those great fiery eyes looked at you earnestly, there was such an intense glow, such a depth of power and pa.s.sion in their rays, you could not but feel that there was danger in her love as in her scorn.

To-day, she would neither threaten nor inspire; she was only a smiling, joyous, simple peasant-girl, who had returned wild with joy to her native village, and whose rapture found expression in the gay and graceful mazes of the dance. She floated here and there, like a wood-nymph, smiling, happy, careless, wonderful to look upon in her loveliness and beauty, but more wonderful still in her art.

Simplicity and grace marked every movement; there seemed no difficulties in her path--to dance was her happiness.

The dance was at an end. Barbarina, breathless, glowing, smiling, bowed low. Then all was still; no hand was moved, no applause greeted her. Her great burning eyes wandered threateningly and questioningly over the saloon; then, raising her lovely head proudly, she stepped back.

The curtain fell, and now all eyes were fixed upon the king, in whose face the courtiers expected to read the impression which the signora had made upon him; but the countenance of the king told nothing; he was quiet and thoughtful, his brow was stern, and his lips compressed. The courtiers concluded that he was disappointed, and began at once to find fault, and make disparaging remarks.

Frederick did not regard them. At this moment he was not a king, he was only a man--a man who, in silent rapture, had gazed upon this wondrous combination of grace and beauty. The king was a hero, but he trembled before this woman, and a sort of terror laid hold upon him.

The curtain rose, and the second act of the drama began; no one looked at the stage; after this living, breathing, impersonation of a simple story, a spoken drama seemed oppressive. Every one rejoiced when the second act was at an end. The curtain would soon rise for Barbarina.

But this did not occur; there was a long delay; there was eager expectation; the curtain did not rise; the bell did not ring. At last, Baron Swartz crossed the stage and drew near to the king.

"Sire," said he, "the Signora Barbarina declares she will not dance again; she is exhausted by grief and anxiety, and fatigued by her journey."

"Go and say to her that I command her to dance," said Frederick, who felt himself once more a king, and rejoiced in his power over this enchantress, who almost held him in her toils.

Baron Swartz hastened behind the scenes, but soon returned, somewhat cast down.

"Sire, the signora affirms that she will not dance, and that the king has no power to compel her. She dances to please herself."

"Ah! that is a menace," said the king, threateningly; and without further speech he stepped upon the stage, followed by Baron Swartz.

"Where is this person?" said the king.

"She is in her own room, your majesty; shall I call her?"

"No, I will go to her. Show me the way."

The baron stepped forward, and Frederick endeavored to collect himself and a.s.sume a cool and grave bearing.

"Sire, this is the chamber of the Signora Barbarina."

"Open the door." But before the baron had time to obey the command, the impatient hand of the king had opened the door, and he had entered the room.

CHAPTER IX.

THE KING AND BARBARINA.

Barbarina was resting, half reclining, and wholly abstracted, upon a small crimson divan; her rounded arms were crossed over her breast.

She fixed her blazing, glowing eyes upon the intruders, and seemed petrified, in her stubborn immobility, her determined silence. She had the glance of a panther who has prepared herself for death, or to slay her enemy.

The king stood a moment quiet and waiting, but Barbarina did not move. Baron Swartz, alarmed by her contemptuous and disrespectful bearing, drew near, in order to say that the king had vouchsafed to visit her, but Frederick motioned him to withdraw; and, in order that Barbarina might not understand him, he told him in German to leave the room and await him in the corridor.

"I do not wish the signora to know that I am the king," said he. As the baron withdrew, Frederick said to him, "Leave the door open."

Barbarina was motionless, only her large black eyes wandered questioningly from one to the other; she sought to read the meaning of their words, not one of which she understood; but her features expressed no anxiety, no disquiet; she did not look like a culprit or a rebel; she had rather the air of a stern queen, withholding her royal favor. The king drew near her. Her eyes were fixed upon him with inexpressible, earnest calm; and this cool indifference, so rarely seen by a king, embarra.s.sed Frederick, and at the same time intoxicated him.

"You are, then, determined not to dance again?" said the king.

"Fully determined," said she, in a rich and sonorous voice.

"Beware! beware!" said he; but he could not a.s.sume that threatening tone which he wished. "The king may perhaps compel you."

"Compel me! me, the Barbarina!" said she, with a mocking laugh, aim disclosing two row? of pearly teeth. "And how can the king compel me to dance?"

"You must be convinced that he has some power over you, since he brought you here against your will."

"Yes, that is true," said she, raising herself up proudly; "he brought me here by force; he has acted like a barbarian, a cold- blooded tyrant!"

"Signora," said Frederick, menacingly, "one does not speak so of kings."

"And why not?" she said, pa.s.sionately. "What is your king to me?

What claim has he upon my love, upon my consideration, or even my obedience? What has he done for me, that I should regard him otherwise than as a tyrant? What is he to me? I am myself a queen; yes, and believe me, a proud and an obstinate one! Who and what is this king, whom I do not know, whom I have never seen, who has forgotten that I am a woman, yes, forgotten that he is a man, though he bears the empty t.i.tle of a king? A true king is always and only a gallant cavalier in his conduct to women. If he fails in this, he is contemptible and despised."

"How! you despise the king?" said Frederick, who really enjoyed this unaccustomed scene.

"Yes, I despise him! yes, I hate him!" cried the Barbarina, with a wild and stormy outbreak of her southern nature. "I no longer pray to G.o.d for my own happiness; that this cruel king has destroyed. I pray to G.o.d for revenge; yes, for vengeance upon this man, who has no heart, and who tramples the hearts of others under his feet. And G.o.d will help me. I shall revenge myself on this man. I have sworn it--I will keep my word! Go, sir, and tell this to your king; tell him to beware of Barbarina. Greater, bolder, more magnanimous than he, I warn him! Cunningly; slyly, unwarned, by night I was fallen upon by spies, and dragged like a culprit to Berlin."

The king had no wish to put an end to this piquant scene; he was only accustomed to the voice of praise and of applause; it was a novelty, and therefore agreeable to be so energetically railed at and abused.

"Do you not fear that the king will be angry when I repeat your words?"

"Fear! What more can your king do, that I should fear him? Yes, he is a king; but am not I a queen? This paltry kingdom is but a small portion of the world, which is mine, wholly mine; it belongs to me, as it belongs to the eagle who spreads her proud wings and looks down upon her vast domains; he has millions in his treasury, but they are pressed from the pockets of his poor subjects; he requires many agents to collect his gold, and his people give it grudgingly, but my subjects bring their tribute joyfully and lay it at my feet with loving words. Look you! look at these two little feet: they are my a.s.sessors; they collect the taxes from my people, and all the dwellers in Europe are mine. These are my agents, they bring me in millions of gold; they are also my avengers, by their aid I shall revenge myself on your barbaric king."