Читать книгу The Countess of Rudolstadt - George Sand - Страница 7

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"To reduce—thanks to the means which my incomparable mistress has provided for me—the subalterns of the garrison; to effect an understanding with a prisoner as fond of liberty as I am; to give a violent blow to one keeper, a kick to another, and a sword cut to a third; to leap over the rampart, throwing my friend, who did not run as fast as I did, before me (he sprained his ankle as he fell); to pick him up and run thus for fifteen minutes; to cross the Weiss, the water coming up to my waist, through a fog so thick that no one could see beyond his nose; to start from the other bank and travel all night—such a terrible night! to get lost; to go in the snow all around a mountain, without having an idea where I was; to hear the clock of the castle of Glatz strike four—that is to say, to lose time and trouble and see the city walls at dawn; to resume courage to enter a peasant's hut and, with a pistol at his head, get possession of two horses and ride rapidly away;—to regain liberty by a thousand ruses, a thousand terrors and sufferings—and then to find oneself without money or clothing, and almost without bread, in an intensely cold and a foreign country: but to see oneself free, after having been doomed to a terrible and fearful captivity; to think of one's adorable mistress; to say that this news will fill her with joy; to make a thousand bold and daring plans to see her—is to be happier than Frederick of Prussia—to be the happiest of men—the elect of Providence!"

Such was the tenor of the letter of Frederick von Trenck to the Princess Amelia; and the ease with which Madame von Kleist read it proved to Porporina, who was much surprised and moved, that this correspondence in cypher was very familiar to them. There was a postscript to this effect:—

"The person who will give you this letter is as trustworthy as the others were not. You may confide in her without reserve, and give her all your letters for me. The Count de Saint Germain can contrive a means to enable her to send them, though it is altogether unnecessary that the said count, in whom I have not the fullest confidence, should ever hear of you. He will think me in love with Porporina, though such is not the case, for I have not entertained for her anything but an affectionate and pure friendship. Let no cloud, then, darken the beautiful brow of the divinity I adore. For her alone do I breathe, and I would rather die than deceive her."

While the Baroness von Kleist deciphered aloud this postscript, weighing each word, the Princess Amelia examined the features of Porporina carefully, for the purpose of discovering an expression of grief, humiliation, or mortification. The angelic serenity of this creature perfectly reassured her, and she began to overwhelm her with caresses, saying—

"And I suspected you, my poor child. You do not know how jealous I have been of you, and how I have hated and cursed you. I hoped to find you an ugly and bad actress, for the very reason that I was afraid you would be too beautiful and good. This was the reason that my brother, fearing that I would be acquainted with you, though he pretended to wish to bring you to my concerts, took care to let me hear a report that at Vienna you had been Trenck's mistress. He was well aware that in that manner he would best contrive to alienate me from you. I believed all this, while you devoted yourself to the greatest dangers to bring me this happy news. You do not love the king? Ah! you are frightened: he is the most perverse and cruel of men."

"Ah! madame!—madame!" said the Baroness von Kleist, terrified at the abandoned and mad volubility with which the princess spoke before Porporina, "to what dangers you would now expose yourself, were not the signora an angel of courage and devotion!"

"That is true. I am mad! I think I have lost my head! Shut the doors, Von Kleist, and see if any one in the antechamber has heard me. As for her," said the princess, pointing to Porporina, "look and see if it be possible to suspect such a face as hers? No, no; I am not so imprudent as I seem to be, dear Porporina. Do not think I speak frankly because I am crazed, and will repent when I am calm. I have an infallible instinct, you see. My eyes are infallible, and have never deceived me. This is a family peculiarity; and though my brother the king is vain of it, he possesses it in no higher degree than I do. No; you will not deceive me. I know you will not deceive a woman who is devoured by an unfortunate passion, and has suffered what people can form no idea of."

"Oh, madame, never!" said Porporina, and she knelt before her, as if to call God to witness her oath. "Neither you nor Trenck, who saved my life, nor any one else."

"He saved your life? Ah! I am sure he has done as much for many others, he is so brave, good, and handsome. You did not look very closely at him, otherwise you would have fallen in love. Is not this the case? You will tell me how you met him, and how he saved your life. Not now, however. I cannot listen, but must speak to you, for my heart is overflowing. Long since it has been drying up in my bosom. I wish to speak—I must speak—let me alone, Von Kleist—my joy must find an utterance or my heart will burst. Shut the doors, however, and watch. Take care of me—pity me, my poor friends, for I am very happy!" The princess wept.

"You must know," said she, after the lapse of a few minutes, her voice being half-stifled by tears, with an agitation which nothing could calm, "that from the first time I saw I was pleased with him. He was then eighteen years of age and beautiful as an angel. He was so well educated, so frank and so brave. They washed to marry me to the king of Sweden. Ah! yes; and my sister Ulrica wept with mortification when she saw I was about to become a queen, while she was unmarried. 'My dear sister,' said I, 'we can arrange matters. The great men who rule over Sweden, wish a Catholic queen, and I will make no abjuration. They wish a good queen, indolent, calm, and careless of all politics. Now, were I queen, I would reign. I shall express my opinion decidedly on these points to the ambassadors, and you will see that to-morrow they will write to their prince that I am not such a queen as Sweden needs.' I acted as I said I would, and my sister is queen of Sweden. Ah! Porporina, you think you are an actress. You do not know, however, what it is to play a part all one's life, morning, day, evening, and often by night. All who surround us, are busy in watching and spying us out, in guessing at and in betraying us. I have been forced to seem sad and mortified, when by my exertions my sister sprang into the throne of Sweden. I have been forced to seem to detest Trenck, to think him ridiculous, and to laugh at him. Yet all the time, I loved and adored him. I was his mistress, and was as much stifled with happiness as I am now—far more so, alas!—Trenck, however, had not my strength and courage. He was not of a princely house, and did not know how to feign and lie as I did. The king discovered all; and following the royal rule, pretended to see nothing. He persecuted Trenck, however, and the handsome page became the victim of his hatred and fury. He overwhelmed him by severity and hardship. He kept him in arrest seven days out of every eight. On the eighth day, however, he was in my arms, for nothing terrified or alarmed him. How could I not adore so much courage? Well, the king confided a foreign mission to him, and when he had discharged it with rare skill, my brother was base enough to accuse him of having sold basely to his cousin, the Pandour, who is in the service of Maria Theresa, plans of our fortifications and warlike plans. This was a means not only to bear him from me into endless captivity, but to disgrace and murder him by chagrin, despair, and rage, amid the horrors of a dungeon. See whether I can esteem or honor my brother. He is a great man, they say, but I tell you he is a monster. Take care, my child, how you love him, for he will crush your heart as he would snap a twig. You must, however, pretend—seem to do so. In such an atmosphere as that in which you live, you must breathe in secret. I seem to adore my brother—I am his best-beloved sister—all know or think they know. He is very attentive to me, gathering fruit for me from the espaliers of Sans Souci, depriving himself, and he loves nothing else, to gratify me. Before he gives them to the page to bring, he counts them lest the lad should eat a portion on the way. What a delicate attention! It is naïveté worthy of Henry IV. or King René. He, however, murders my lover in an underground dungeon, and seeks to dishonor him in my eyes as a punishment for having loved me. What a great heart! what a kind brother! How we love each other!"

As she spoke, the princess grew pale, her voice became feeble, her eyes became fixed and ready to start from their orbits, and she became livid and motionless, She was unconscious. Porporina was much terrified, and aided the baroness to unlace and put her to bed, where she gradually recovered her senses, continuing the while to murmur unintelligible words. "The attack will soon pass away, thank heaven," said the favorite to the singer. "When she can control herself I will call her women. You, my dear, must go into the music-room, and sing to the walls, or rather to the antechamber's ears. The king will certainly know that you are here, and you must seem to be occupied by music alone. The princess will be sick, and thus will hide her joy. Neither she nor you must seem to be aware of the escape of Trenck. It is certain that the king is now aware of it, and will be in a terrible bad humor, suspecting every one. Be careful, then. You as well as I will be lost, if he discover that you gave that letter to the princess. Women as well as men are sent to fortresses in Prussia. There they are intentionally forgotten, and die as men do. You are now on your guard, adieu. Sing, and go without noise and without mystery. Eight days, at least, will pass before we see you, lest there be any suspicions. Rely on the gratitude of the princess. She is nobly liberal, and knows how to reward those who have served her."

"Alas!" madame, said Porporina, "think you that promises or menaces are heeded by me? I pity you for having entertained such an idea."

Crushed with fatigue after the violent emotions she had undergone, and not yet recovered from the illness of the day before, Porporina sat down to the instrument, and was beginning to sing, when a door was opened behind her so softly that she did not perceive it. Suddenly, she saw in the glass before her the figure of the king. She trembled, and wished to leave, but the king placed one of his dry fingers on her shoulder, forced her to sit still and continue. With much repugnance and indisposition, she continued. She never felt less disposed to sing, and on no occasion had the appearance of Frederick seemed so icy and repugnant to musical inspiration.

When she had finished the piece, he said it was admirably sung. She had, however, remarked that he had gone on tiptoe and listened at his sister's chamber door. "I observe, with distress," added he, "that your beautiful voice is much changed this morning. You should have rested, instead of yielding to the strange whim of Amelia, and coming hither, after all, not to be listened to."

"Her royal highness became suddenly indisposed," said Porporina, terrified at the dark and thoughtful air of the king. "They told me to sing, to distract her attention."

"I assure you it is labor lost," said Frederick, drily. "She chats in there with the Baroness von Kleist, just as if nothing was the matter. As that is the case, we may also chat together without attending to them. The illness of the princess is not great. I think your sex are easily cured of diseases of this kind. You were thought dead, yesterday, and none certainly suspected that you would have been here this morning to divert and amuse my sister. Will you be kind enough to tell me why you came so unexpectedly to this place?"

Porporina was amazed at this question, and asked heaven to inspire her.

"Sire," said she, boldly as she could, "I can scarcely do so. I was asked this morning for this music. I thought it my duty to bring it in person. I expected to place the books in the antechamber and return as soon as I could. The Baroness von Kleist saw me, and mentioned the fact to her royal highness, who apparently wished to see me closely. I was forced to come in. Her highness deigned to question me about the style of various musical compositions: then feeling indisposed, she bade me sing this while she went to bed. Now, I think I may be permitted to go to rehearsal."

"It is not time yet." said the king. "I do not see why your feet should step to run away when I wish to speak with you."

"The reason is, that when with your majesty, I always feel as if I were not in my sphere."

"You have no common sense."

"That is yet another reason."

"You will remain," said he, forcing her to sit down to the piano, and placing himself in front of her. He then began to examine her, with an air half inquisitorial and half paternal.

"Is what you have said true?"

Porporina overcame the horror she entertained for falsehood. She had often said that for her own sake she would be sincere with this terrible man, but that she would not hesitate to tell an untruth if the safety of others were concerned. Unexpectedly she had reached this crisis, when her master's kindness might change into fury. She would willingly have run the risk of the latter, rather than be false. The fate of Trenck and the princess, however, depended on her presence of mind and determination. She called the arts of her profession to her aid, and with a malicious smile met the eagle eye of the king, which, at that moment glared like a vulture's.

"Well," said the king, "why do you not answer me?"

"Why does your majesty seek to terrify me by doubting what I have said?"

"You are not at all afraid. On the contrary, I find your glance today hardy indeed."

"Sire, we fear only the things we hate. Why do you wish me to fear you?"

Frederick erected all the scales of his crocodile armor, to avoid being moved by this reply, the most coquettish he had ever obtained from Porporina. He at once changed his intention: a great art it is to do so, and far more difficult than people usually think.

"Why did you faint yesterday at the theatre?"

"Sire, it is of the least possible interest to your majesty. It is my own secret."

"What had you at breakfast this morning, which makes you so unconcerned in your language?"

"I had recourse to a certain flacon, which filled me with confidence in the kindness and justice of him who brought it."

"Ah! you considered that a declaration," said the king in the most icy manner and with a smile of cynical disdain.

"Thank God! I did not," said the young girl, with an expression of sincere sorrow.

"Why thank God?"

"Because I know your majesty makes none but declarations of war even to women."

"You are neither the Czarina, nor Maria Theresa: what war can I wage on you?"

"That of the lion on the wasp."

"What wasp induces you to quote such a fable? The wasp killed the lion by stinging him to death."

"It was certainly a poor, bad-tempered lion, and consequently weak. I should not have thought of that apologue."

"But the wasp was angry and fond of stinging. Perhaps the apologue is apropos?"

"Does your majesty think so?"

"Yes."

"Sire, you say what is not true."

Frederick took the young girl's wrist and pressed it convulsively, until he had nearly crushed it. This strange act was caused both by anger and love. Porporina did not change her countenance, and the king said, as he looked at her red and swollen hand:

"You are a woman of courage."

"Not so, sire: but I do not, like those around you, pretend to be a coward."

"What mean you?"

"That to avoid death, people often kill themselves. Were I in your place, I would not wish to be so terrible."

"With whom are you in love?" said the king, again changing the subject.

"With no one, sire."

"Then, why have you nervous attacks?"

"That has nothing to do with the fate of Prussia, and for that reason the king need ask no questions."

"Think you it is the king who speaks?"

"I cannot forget."

"Yet you must make up your mind to do so. You did not save the king's life, signorina."

"I have not yet seen the Baron von Kreutz."

"Is that a reproach? It is unjust. Not the king but the Baron von Kreutz enquired after your health, yesterday."

"The distinction, baron, is too subtle for me."

"Well, try and learn. Look: when I put my hat on my head thus, a little to the left, I am a captain; when I place it thus, to the right, I am king. You will, as the case may be, appear either Porporina or Consuelo."

"I understand, sire. That, however, is impossible. Your majesty may be double, if you please, be triple, or hundred fold, I can be but one."

"That is not true. You would not speak to me at the theatre, among your companions, as you do here."

"Do not be too sure, sire."

"Ah! the devil is in you to-day."

"The reason is, that your majesty's hat is neither to the left nor to the right. I do not know to whom I speak."

The king, overcome by the attraction, which at this moment especially he felt towards Porporina, placed his hat so extremely on his left side, that his face became really comic in its expression. He wished to play the simple mortal and the king, in an hour of relaxation, as well as possible. Suddenly, however, he remembered that he had come, not for amusement, but to discover the secrets of the Abbess of Quedlimburgh, and took off his hat with an air of deep chagrin. The smile died on his lips, his brow became dark, and he rose up, saying to the young girl, "Remain here, I will come for you." He then went into the Princess's room, who waited tremblingly for him. The Baroness von Kleist, seeing that he was talking with Porporina, had not dared to leave the bed of the Princess. She had made vain efforts to hear this conversation, but in consequence of the size of the room, had not heard a single word. She was more dead than alive.

Porporina also trembled at what was about to take place. Ordinarily grave and respectful to the king, she had done violence to her habits for the purpose of amusing him, and adopted the most coquettish frankness in her replies to the dangerous questions she had asked. Frederick, however, was not the man to give up his point, and the efforts of the young girl gave way before the despot's determination. She recommended the Princess Amelia to God's mercy, for she was well aware that the king forced her to remain to confront her explanations with those he was listening to in the next room. She had the less doubt from the careful manner with which he closed the door after he had passed it. For a quarter of an hour, she was in the most painful excitement, troubled with fever, terrified at the intrigue with which she was enwrapped, and dissatisfied with the part she had been forced to play, recalling at the time with terror the insinuations she began to hear from all quarters, at the possibility of the king's love, which she compared with the agitation the king had displayed by his strange manners.