Joseph II. and His Court Part 171

"Are you at a loss for words?" asked the baron, and his voice was so savage that Rachel started at the ominous sound.

"Repeat my words, then," continued he, seeing that she made no answer, "or I--"

"Say, on, my father," replied the despairing girl.

Baron Eskeles Flies repeated his oath, and the pale victim spoke the words after him. But at the end of the ordeal she reeled and fell to the floor. Her father bent over, and raising her tenderly, folded her to his heart. His voice was now as loving as ever.

"My precious child, we are truly united now. Nothing can part us, and your happy father will surround you with such splendor as you have never beheld before."

"Oh, my father!" exclaimed she, "what has splendor to do with happiness?"

"Everything," replied her father, with a careless laugh. "Misfortune is not near so ugly in a palace as in a cottage; and I do a.s.sure you that the tears which are shed in a softly-cus.h.i.+oned carriage are not half so bitter as those that fall from the eyes of the houseless beggar. Wealth takes the edge from affliction, and lends new l.u.s.tre to happiness. And it shall shed its brightest halo over yours, my daughter. But I must leave you, for I expect to earn a fortune before I return, when I hope to see you bright and beautiful as ever."

He kissed her forehead and stroked her silky hair. "The Baroness Rachel will be a Jewess forever! Oh, how can I thank you for that promise, my adored child! What new pleasure can I procure for my idol to-day?"

"Love me, father," murmured Rachel.

"What need you ask for love, you who are to me like the breath of life?

To show how I antic.i.p.ate your wishes, I have already prepared a gratification for you. I have remarked how much pleasure you take in the gardens and little pavilion yonder. Since my Rachel loves to take her morning walk there, it shall be changed into a paradise. The brightest fruits and flowers of the tropics shall bloom in its conservatories: and instead of the little pavilion, I shall raise up a temple of purest white marble, worthy of the nymph who haunts the spot. For a few weeks your walks will be somewhat disturbed, darling, for the workmen will begin to-morrow; but they aced not be much in your way, for while the walls are down, I shall set a watch at every gate to make sure that no one intrudes upon your privacy. In a few months you shall have a miniature palace wherein to rest, when you are tired of roaming about the grounds: Farewell, my child. I shall send the workmen to-morrow--early to-morrow morning."

"He knows all," thought poor Rachel, as he closed the door. "The oath was to part me from Gunther; the changes in the garden are to prevent us from meeting."

For a long time she sat absorbed in grief. But finally she made her resolve.

"I have sworn to love thee forever, my Gunther," said she. "When the hour comes wherein my choice must be made, I go with thee!"

CHAPTER CLII.

NEW-FAs.h.i.+ONED OBSEQUIES.

The emperor's horse was saddled, and he was about to take his daily ride. But as he was leaving his cabinet, a page announced Field-Marshal Lacy.

"Admit him," said Joseph, and he hastened to the anteroom to greet his favorite.

Lacy received the cordial greeting of the emperor with a grave, troubled expression.

"Sire," said he, "may I beg for an audience?"

"Certainly, my friend," replied Joseph. "I am just about to ride, and you can accompany me. We can converse together in some of the shady alleys of the park. I will order a horse for you at once."

"Pardon me, sire, our interview must be here. I saw your majesty's horse in readiness for your ride, but that did not prevent me from coming, for the matter which brought me hither is one of supreme importance."

"And you cannot put it off until we take our ride?"

"Sire, my first request is that your majesty will relinquish the ride altogether. You must not be seen in the streets to-day."

"Bless me, Lacy! you speak as if I were Louis of France, who is afraid to show himself in public, because of the murmurs of his discontented subjects."

"Sire, a.s.sume that you are Louis, then, and give up the ride. Do it, if you love me, my sovereign."

"If I love you!" repeated Joseph, with surprise. "Well, then, it shall be done." And he rang, and ordered his horse to be put up. "Now speak.

What can have happened here, that I should be threatened with a discontented mob?"

"Sire," began Lacy, "you remember the day on which we swore to speak the truth to your majesty, even if it should become importunate, do you not?"

"Yes, I do, Lacy; but neither of you have kept the promise up to this time."

"I am here to redeem my word, sire. I come to warn your majesty that you are proceeding too rashly with your measures of reform."

"And you also, Lacy!" cried Joseph, reproachfully. "You, the bravest of the brave, would have me retreat before the dissatisfaction of priests and bigots."

"The malcontents are not only priests and bigots, they are your whole people. You attempt too many reforms at once."

"But my reforms are all for the people's good. I am no tyrant to oppress and trample them under foot. I am doing my best to free them from the shackles of prejudice, and yet they hara.s.s and oppose me. Even those who understand my aims, place obstacles in my path. Oh, Lacy, it wounds me to see that not even my best friends sustain me!"

"I see that your majesty is displeased," replied Lacy, sadly, "and that you reckon me among your opponents--I who am struck with admiration at the grandeur of your conceptions. But you are so filled with the rect.i.tude of your intentions, that you have no indulgence for the weakness and ignorance of those whom you would benefit, and you snake too light of the enmity of those whom your reforms have aggrieved."

"Whom have I aggrieved?" cried Joseph, impatiently. "Priests and n.o.bles, n.o.body besides. If I have displeased them, it is because I wish to put all men on an equality. The privileged cla.s.ses may hate me--let them do it, but the people whom I befriend will love and honor me."

"Ah, sire, you think too well of the people," said Lacy. "And mindful of my promise, I must say that you have given cause for dissatisfaction to all cla.s.ses, plebeian as well as patrician."

"How so?" cried Joseph.

"You have despised their prejudices, and mocked at customs which in their superst.i.tious ignorance they hold as sacred. They do not thank you for enlightening them. They call you an unbeliever and an apostate. Do not be displeased, sire, if I speak so plainly of things which the stupidity of your subjects regards as a crime. I come as your majesty's accuser, because I come as the advocate of your people, imploring you to be patient with their blindness and their folly."

"What now? Is there any special complaint against me?"

"Yes, sire. Your majesty has issued an edict which has wounded the people in those relations which the world holds sacred; an edict which is (forgive me if I speak plain)--which is--so entirely free from prejudice, that it trenches almost--upon the limits of barbarism."

"What edict can you mean?"

"That which concerns the burial of the dead, sire. I beseech you, revoke it; for the people cry out that nothing is sacred to the emperor--not even death and the grave! Leave them their cemeteries and their tombs, that they may go thither and pray for the souls of the departed!"

"That they may go thither and enjoy their superst.i.tious rites!" cried Joseph, indignantly. "I will not allow my subjects to seek for their dead underground. They shall not solemnize the corruption of the body; they shall turn their eyes to Heaven, and there seek for the immortal spirit of the departed! They shall not love the dust of their forefathers, but their souls!"

"Sire, you speak of an ideal people. To bring mankind to such a state of perfection would require the reign of a Methusaleh! It is too soon for such edicts. The people, so far from appreciating, abhor them."

"Are you really in earnest, Lacy?" exclaimed the emperor, with flas.h.i.+ng eyes.

"Yes, sire, they are indignant. Yesterday the first burial, according to your majesty's edict, took place, and since then the people are in a state of revolt. To-day there are of course other bodies to be interred.

There is not a vagrant in the streets that does not utter threats against your majesty. From the burgher to the beggar, every man feels that his sacred rights have been invaded. They feel that the prohibition of coffins and burying-grounds does not reach the rich, who have their hereditary tombs in churches and chapels, but the people, who have no such privileges."

"The people for whose sakes I would have converted the mould of the burying-ground into fertile fields, and spared them the cost of a useless coffin, which, instead of rotting in the ground, would have been so much more wood to warm them in winter, and cook the food for their hungry, living bodies!"

"But, your majesty, they are not sufficiently enlightened to comprehend your ideas. Revoke the order, sire--in mercy to their ignorance, revoke the order!"