Читать книгу Frederick the Great and His Family - L. Muhlbach - Страница 21

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What a crowd, what noise, what laughing and chatting! How bright and happy these people are who have nothing and are nothing! How gayly they laugh and talk together—with what stoical equanimity they regard the slow motion of the boat! They accept it as an unalterable necessity. How kindly they assist each other; with what natural politeness the men leave the best seats for the women!

The boat is very much crowded. There are a great number of those amiable people who are nothing, and have nothing, moving from place to place cheerily.

The men on the shore who, with the aid of ropes, are pulling the boat, those two-legged horses, groan from exertion. The bagpipe player is making his gayest music, but in vain—he cannot allure the young people to dance; there is no place for dancing, the large deck of the boat is covered with human beings. Old men, and even women, are obliged to stand; the two long benches running down both sides of the boat are filled.

The king enjoyed the scene immensely. The free life about him, the entire indifference to his own person, charmed and delighted him. He leaned against the cabin, by which he was sitting, and regarded the crowd before him. Suddenly he was touched on the shoulder, and not in the gentlest manner. Looking up, he met the discontented face of a peasant, who was speaking violently, but in Dutch, and the king did not understand him; he therefore slightly shrugged his shoulders and remained quiet.

The angry peasant continued to gesticulate, and pointed excitedly at the ting and then at a pale young woman who was standing before him, and held two children in her arms.

The king still shrugged his shoulders silently, but when the peasant grasped him for the second time he waved him off, and his eye was so stern that the terrified and astonished peasant stepped back involuntarily.

At this moment a displeased murmur was heard among the crowd, and a number arranged themselves by the side of the peasant, who approached the king with a determined countenance.

The king remained sitting, and looked surprised at the threatening countenances of the people, whose angry words he tried in vain to comprehend.

The still increasing crowd was suddenly separated by two strong arms, and Balby, who had been sitting at the other end of the boat, now approached the king, accompanied by a friend, and placed himself at the king’s side.

“Tell me what these men want, mon ami,” said Frederick, hastily; “I do not understand Dutch.”

“I understand it, sir,” said the friend who accompanied Balby, “these people are reproaching you.”

“Reproaching me! And why?”

The stranger turned to the peasant who had first spoken, and who now began to make himself heard again in loud and angry tones.

“Monsieur,” said the stranger, “these good people are angry with you, and, it appears to me, not entirely without cause. There is a language that is understood without words, its vocabulary is in the heart. Here stands a poor, sick woman, with her twins in her arms. You, monsieur, are the only man seated. These good people think it would be but proper for you to resign your seat.”

“This is unheard-of insolence,” exclaimed Balby, placing him self determinedly before the king; “let any one dare advance a step farther, and I—”

“Quiet, cher frere, the people are right, and I am ashamed of myself that I did not understand them at once.”

He rose and passed through the crowd with a calm, kindly face, and, not appearing to notice them, approached the young woman, who was kneeling, exhausted, on the floor. With a kind, sympathetic smile, he raised her and led her to his seat. There was something so noble and winning in his manner, that those who were so shortly before indignant, were unconsciously touched. A murmur of approval was heard; the rough faces beamed with friendly smiles.

The king did not observe this, he was still occupied with the poor woman, and, while appearing to play with the children, gave each of them a gold piece. But their little hands were not accustomed to carry such treasures, and could not hold them securely. The two gold pieces rolled to the ground, and the ringing noise announced the rich gift of Frederick. Loud cries of delight were heard, and the men waved their hats in the air. The king reddened, and looked down in confusion.

The peasant, who had first been so violent toward the king, and at whose feet the money had fallen, picked it up and gave it to the children; then, with a loud laugh, he offered his big, rough hand to the king, and said something in a kindly tone.

“The good man is thanking you, sir,” said the stranger “He thinks you a clever, good-hearted fellow, and begs you to excuse his uncalled-for violence.”

The king answered with a silent bow. He who was accustomed to receive the world’s approval as his just tribute, was confused and ashamed at the applause of these poor people.

The king was right in saying he left his royalty on Prussian soil; he really was embarrassed at this publicity, and was glad when Deesen announced that lunch was prepared for him. He gave Balby a nod to follow, and withdrew into the cabin.

“Truly, if every-day life had so many adventures, I do not understand how any one can complain of ennui. Through what varied scenes I have passed to-day!”

“But our adventures arise from the peculiarity of our situation,” said Balby. “All these little contretemps are annoying and disagreeable; but seem only amusing to a king in disguise.”

“But a disguised king learns many things,” said Frederick, smiling; “from to-day, I shall be no longer surprised to hear the police called a hateful institution. Vraiment, its authority and power is vexatious, but necessary. Never speak again of my god-like countenance, or the seal of greatness which the Creator has put upon the brow of princes to distinguish them from the rest of mankind. Mons. Niclas saw nothing great stamped upon my brow; to him I had the face of a criminal—my passport only made an honest man of me. Come, friends, let us refresh ourselves.”

While eating, the king chatted pleasantly with Balby of the charming adventures of the day.

“Truly,” he said, laughing, as the details of the scene on deck were discussed, “without the interference of that learned Dutchman, the King of Prussia would have been in dangerous and close contact with the respectable peasant. Ah, I did not even thank my protecting angel. Did you speak to him, brother Henry? Where is he from, and what is his name?”

“I do not know, sir; but from his speech and manner he appeared to me to be an amiable and cultivated gentleman.”

“Go and invite him to take a piece of pie with us. Tell him Mr. Zoller wishes to thank him for his assistance, and begs the honor of his acquaintance. You see, my friend, I am learning how to be polite, to flatter, and conciliate, as becomes a poor travelling musician. I beg you, choose your words well. Be civil, or he might refuse to come, and I thirst for company.”

Balby returned in a few moments, with the stranger.

“Here, my friend,” said Balby. “I bring you our deliverer in time of need. He will gladly take his share of the pie.”

“And he richly deserves it,” said the king, as he greeted the stranger politely. “Truly, monsieur, I am very much indebted to you, and this piece of pie that I have the honor to offer you is but a poor reward for your services. I believe I never saw larger fists than that terrible peasant’s; a closer acquaintance with them would have been very disagreeable. I thank you for preventing it.”

“Travellers make a variety of acquaintances,” said the stranger, laughing, and seating himself on the bench by the king’s side, with a familiarity that terrified Balby. “I count you, sir, among the agreeable ones, and I thank you for this privilege.”

“I hope you will make the acquaintance of this pie, and find it agreeable,” said the king. “Eat, monsieur, and let us chat in the mean while—Henry, why are you standing there so grave and respectful, not daring to be seated? I do not believe this gentleman to be a prince travelling incognito.”

“No, sir, take your place,” exclaimed the stranger, laughing, “you will not offend etiquette. I give you my word that I am no concealed prince, and no worshipper of princes. I am proud to declare this.”

“Ah! you are proud not to be a prince?”

“Certainly, sir.”

“It appears to me,” said Balby, looking at the king, “that a prince has a great and enviable position.”

“But a position, unfortunately, that but few princes know how to fill worthily,” said the king, smiling. “Every man who is sufficient for himself is to be envied.”

“You speak my thoughts exactly, sir,” said the stranger, who had commenced eating his piece of pie with great zeal. “Only the free are happy.”

“Are you happy?” asked the king.

“Yes, sir; at least for the moment I am.”

“What countryman are you?”

“I am a Swiss, sir.”

“A worthy and respectable people. From what part of Switzerland do you come?”

“From the little town of Merges.”

“Not far, then, from Lausanne, and the lonely lake of Geneva, not far from Ferney, where the great Voltaire resides, and from whence he darts his scorching, lightning-flashes to-day upon those whom he blessed yesterday. Are you satisfied with your government? Are not your patrician families a little too proud? Are not even the citizens of Berne arrogant and imperious?”

“We have to complain of them, sir, but very rarely.”

“Are you now residing in Holland?”

“No, I am travelling,” answered the stranger, shortly. He had held for a long time a piece of pie on his fork, trying in vain to put it in his mouth.

The king had not observed this; he had forgotten that kings and princes only have the right to carry on a conversation wholly with questions, and that it did not become Mr. Zoller to be so inquisitive.

“What brought you here?” he asked, hastily.

“To complete my studies, sir,” and, with a clouded brow, the stranger laid his fork and pie upon his plate.

But the king’s questions flowed on in a continued stream.

“Do you propose to remain here?”

“I believe not, or rather I do not yet know,” answered the stranger, with a sarcastic smile, that brought Balby to desperation.

“Are not the various forms of government of Switzerland somewhat confusing in a political point of view?”

“No, for all know that the cantons are free, as they should be.”

“Does that not lead to skepticism and indifference?”

The stranger’s patience was exhausted; without answering the king, he pushed back his plate and arose from the table.

“Sir, allow me to say that, in consideration of a piece of pie, which you will not even give me time to eat, you ask too many questions.”

“You are right, and I beg your pardon,” said the king, as he smilingly nodded at Balby to remain quiet. “We travel to improve ourselves, but you have just cause of complaint. I will give you time to eat your piece of pie. Eat, therefore, monsieur, and when you have finished, if it is agreeable, we will chat awhile longer.”

When the stranger arose to depart, after an animated and interesting conversation, the king offered him his hand.

“Give me your address,” he said, “that is, I beg of you to do so. You say you have not yet chosen a profession; perhaps I may have the opportunity of being useful to you.”

The Swiss gave him his card, with many thanks, and returned to the deck.

The king gazed thoughtfully after him.

“That man pleases me, and when I am no longer a poor musician, I shall call him to my side.—Well, brother Henry, what do you think of this man, who, as I see, is named Mr. Le Catt?”

“I find him rather curt,” said Balby, “and he appears to be a great republican.”

“You mean because he hates princes, and was somewhat rude to me. Concerning the first, you must excuse it in a republican, and I confess that were I in his place I would probably do the same as to the last, he was right to give Mr. Zoller a lesson in manners. Poor Zoller is not yet acquainted with the customs of the common world, and makes all manner of mistakes against bon ton. I believe to-day is not the first time he has been reproved for want of manners.”

“Mr. Zoller is every inch a king,” said Balby, laughing.

[NOTE.—The king’s conversation with Mr. Le Catt is historical (see Thiebault, vol. 1., p. 218). The king did not forget his travelling adventure, but on his return to Prussia, called Le Catt to court and gave him the position of lecturer, and for twenty years he enjoyed the favor and confidence of the king.]