Читать книгу Frederick the Great and His Court - L. Muhlbach - Страница 18

All eyes were fixed upon the rising sun, upon Frederick, so unlike his father, and so little the son of his father's heart. As the king thought of this, deep grief and a foreboding melancholy overcame him. In the anguish of his heart he turned to God and prayed. He silenced the voice of self-accusation and remorse, now whispering in his breast, by prayer.

The king prayed. Exhausted with rage, he fancied that he had given himself up to pious contrition and world-despising godliness.

As the tones of the music were again heard, he experienced a pious exasperation over this unholy levity, a peaceful self-content; he belonged not to the ungodly, who gave themselves up to worldliness and vanity, but alone and deserted he prayed to his Father in heaven. How small, how pitiful, how contemptible did the gay dancers appear to him! How pleased he was with himself, his holy walk and conversation! At this moment the anxious face of his valet appeared at the door.

"Your majesty commanded me to tell you so soon as the coffins which came yesterday were unpacked and placed in the white saloon: this is done, and the coffins can be seen."

"Ah! My coffin is ready!" said the king, involuntarily shuddering. "My coffin, and that of the queen! And Sophia gives a ball, and perhaps dances, in place of bowing her soul in contrition before God. I will awaken her from these soul-destroying vanities; the arrival of the coffins now was an especial providence of God. The queen shall see them!"

He called his two valets, commanded one to lead him to the ball-room, the other to illuminate the white saloon in which the coffins were placed.