Frederick the Great and His Court Part 52

The king thought this a good opportunity to pacify Quantz by showing an interest in his pupil. "That is indeed a most unhappy circ.u.mstance,"

said the king, aloud. "Hasten, Pollnitz, to inquire in my name after the health of this gifted young singer. If she is still suffering, take one of my carriages and conduct her yourself to her home, and do not leave her till you can bring me satisfactory intelligence as to her recovery." So saying, the king cast a stolen glance toward the much-dreaded Quantz, whose brow had become somewhat clearer, and his expression less threatening. "We will, perhaps," whispered the king, "escape this time with one day's growling; I think I have softened him." Frederick seated himself, and gave the signal for the concert to proceed; he saw that, with the a.s.sistance of the baron, the unconscious songstress had been removed.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE DEATH OF THE OLD TIME.

The music continued, while Pollnitz, filled with secret dread, ordered a court carriage, according to the command of the king, and entered it with the still insensible songstress.

"The king does not know what a fearful commission he has given me,"

thought Pollnitz, as he drove through the streets with Anna p.r.i.c.kerin, and examined her countenance with terror. "Should she now awake, she would overwhelm me with her rage. She is capable of scratching out my eyes, or even of strangling me."

But his fear was groundless. Anna did not stir; she was still unconscious, as the carriage stopped before the house of her father. No one came to meet them, although Pollnitz ordered the servant to open the door, and the loud ringing of the bell sounded throughout the house. No one appeared as Pollnitz, with the a.s.sistance of the servants, lifted the insensible Anna from the carriage and bore her into the house to her own room. As the baron placed her carefully upon the sofa, she made a slight movement and heaved a deep sigh.

"Now the storm will break forth," thought Pollnitz, anxiously, and he ordered the servants to return to the carriage and await his return. He desired no witnesses of the scene which he expected, and in which he had good reason to believe that he would play but a pitiful role.

Anna p.r.i.c.kerin now opened her eyes; her first glance fell upon Pollnitz, who was bending over her with a tender smile.

"What happiness, dearest," he whispered, "that you at last open your eyes! I was dying with anxiety."

Anna did not answer at once; her eyes were directed with a dreamy expression to the smiling countenance of Pollnitz, and while he recounted his own tender care, and the gracious sympathy of the king, Anna appeared to be slowly waking out of her dream. Now a ray of consciousness and recollection overspread her features, and throwing up her arm with a rapid movement she administered a powerful blow on the cheek of her tender, smiling lover, who fell back with his hand to his face, whimpering with pain.

"Why did you shrug your shoulders?" she said, her lips trembling with anger, and, springing up from the sofa, she approached Pollnitz with a threatening expression, who, expecting a second explosion, drew back, "Why did you shrug your shoulders?" repeated Anna.

"I am not aware that I did so, my Anna," stammered Pollnitz.

She stamped impatiently on the floor. "I am not your Anna. You are a faithless, treacherous man, and I despise you; you are a coward, you have not the courage to defend the woman you have sworn to love and protect. When I ceased singing, why did you not applaud?"

"Dearest Anna," said Pollnitz, "you are not acquainted with court etiquette; you do not know that at court it is only the king who expresses approval."

"You all broke out into a storm of applause as Farinelli finished singing."

"Because the king gave the sign."

Anna shrugged her shoulders contemptuously, and paced the floor with rapid steps. "You think that all my hopes, all my proud dreams for the future are destroyed," she murmured, with trembling lips, while the tears rolled slowly down her cheeks. "To think that the king and the whole court laughed while I sang, and that presumptuous Italian heard and saw it all--I shall die of this shame and disgrace. My future is annihilated, my hopes trodden under foot." She covered her face with her hands, and wept and sobbed aloud.

Pollnitz had no pity for her sufferings, but he remembered his creditors, and this thought rekindled his extinguished tenderness. He approached her, and gently placed his arm around her neck. "Dearest,"

he murmured, "why do you weep, how can this little mischance make you so wretched? Do we not love each other? are you not still my best beloved, my beautiful, my adored Anna? Have you not sworn that you love me, and that you ask no greater happiness than to be united to me?"

Anna raised her head that she might see this tender lover.

"It is true," proceeded Pollnitz, "that you did not receive the applause this evening which your glorious talent deserves; Farinelli was in your way. The king has a prejudice against German singers; he says, 'The Germans can compose music, but they cannot sing.' That prejudice is a great advantage for the Italian. If you had borne an Italian name, the king would have been charmed with your wonderful voice; but you are a German, and he refuses you his approval. But what has been denied you here, you will easily obtain elsewhere. We will leave this cold, ungrateful Berlin, my beloved. You shall take an Italian name, and through my various connections I can make arrangements for you to sing at many courts. You will win fame and gold, and we will live a blessed and happy life."

"I care nothing for the gold; I am rich, richer than I even dreamed. My father told me to-day that he possessed nearly seven hundred thousand dollars, and that he would disinherit my brother, who is now absent from Berlin. I will be his heiress, and very soon, for the physicians say he can only live a few days."

The eyes of the baron gleamed. "Has your father made his will? has he declared you his heiress?"

"He intended doing so to-day. He ordered the lawyers to come to him, and I believe they were here when I started to this miserable concert.

It was not on account of the money, but for fame, that I desired to become a prima donna. But I renounce my intention; this evening has shown me many thorns where I thought to find only roses. I renounce honor and renown, and desire only to be happy, happy in your love and companions.h.i.+p."

"You are right; we will fly from this cold, faithless Berlin to happier regions. The world will know no happier couple than the Baron and Baroness von Pollnitz."

Pollnitz now felt no repugnance at the thought that the tailor's daughter had the presumptuous idea of becoming his wife. He forgave her low origin for the sake of her immense fortune, and thought it not a despicable lot to be the husband of the beautiful Anna p.r.i.c.kerin. He a.s.sured her of his love in impa.s.sioned words, and Anna listened with beaming eyes and a happy smile. Suddenly a loud weeping and crying, proceeding from the next room, interrupted this charming scene.

"My father, it is my father!" cried Anna, as she hastened to the door of the adjoining room, which, as we know, contained the ancestral portraits of the p.r.i.c.kers. Pollnitz followed her. In this room, surrounded by his ancestors, the worthy tailor lay upon his death-bed.

Pale and colorless as the portraits was the face of the poor man; but his eyes were gleaming with a wild, feverish glitter. As he perceived Anna in her splendid French costume, so wild and fearful a laugh burst from his lips, that even Pollnitz trembled.

"Come to me," said the old man, with a stammering voice, as he motioned to his daughter to approach his couch. "You and your brother have broken my heart; you have given me daily a drop of poison, of which I have been slowly dying. Your brother left my house as the prodigal son, but he has not returned a penitent; he glories in his crime; he is proud of his shame. Here is a letter which I received from him to-day, in which he informs me that he has eloped with the daughter of my second murderer, this French Pelissier; and that he intends to become an actor, and thus drag through the dust the old and respectable name of his fathers. For this n.o.ble work he demands his mother's fortune. He shall have it--yes, he shall have it; it is five thousand dollars, but from me he receives nothing but my curse, and I pray to G.o.d that it may ring forever in his ears!"

The old man lay back exhausted, and groaned aloud. Anna stood with tearless eyes by the death-bed of her father, and thought only of the splendid future which each pa.s.sing moment brought nearer. Pollnitz had withdrawn to one of the windows, and was considering whether he should await the death of the old man or return immediately to the king.

Suddenly p.r.i.c.ker opened his eyes, and turned them with an angry and malicious expression toward his daughter.

"What a great lady you are!" he said, with a fearful grin; "dressed in the latest fas.h.i.+on, and a wonderful songstress, who sings before the king and his court. Such a great lady must be ashamed that her father is a tailor. I appreciate that, and I am going to my grave, that I may not trouble my daughter. Yes, I am going, and nothing shall remind the proud songstress of me, neither my presence nor any of my possessions.

A prima donna would not be the heiress of a tailor."

The old man broke out into a wild laugh, while Anna stared at him, and Pollnitz came forward to hear and observe.

"I do not understand you, my father," said Anna, trembling and disturbed.

"You will soon understand me," stammered the old man, with a hoa.r.s.e laugh. "When I am dead, and the lawyers come and read my will, which I gave them to-day, then you will know that I have left my fortune to the poor of the city, and not to this great songstress, who does not need it, as she has a million in her throat. My son an actor, my daughter a prima donna--it is well. I go joyfully to my grave, and thank G.o.d for my release. Ah! you shall remember your old father; you shall curse me, as I have cursed you; and as you will shed no tears at my death, it shall, at least, be a heavy blow to you. You are disinherited! both disinherited! the poor are my heirs, and you and your brother will receive nothing but the fortune of your mother, of which I, unfortunately, cannot deprive you."

"Father, father, this is not possible--this cannot be your determination!" cried Anna. "It is not possible for a father to be so cruel, so unnatural, as to disinherit his children!"

"Have you not acted cruelly and unnaturally to me?" asked the old man; "have you not tortured me? have you not murdered me, with a smile upon your lips, as you did your poor mother, who died of grief? No, no, no pity for unnatural children. You are disinherited!"

The old man fell back with a loud shriek upon his couch, and his features a.s.sumed that fixed expression which is death's herald.

"He is dying!" cried Anna, throwing herself beside her father; "he is dying, and he has disinherited me!"

"Yes, disinherited!" stammered the heavy tongue of the dying man.

Pollnitz trembled at the fearful scene; he fled with hasty steps from this gloomy room, and only recovered his composure when once more seated in his carriage. After some moments of reflection, he said:

"I will ask the king for my release from his service, and I will become a Protestant, and hasten to Nuremberg, and marry the rich patrician."

CHAPTER XIV.

THE DISCOVERY.

They sat hand in hand in the quiet and fragrant conservatory; after a long separation they gazed once more in each other's eyes, doubting the reality of their happiness, and asking if it were not a dream, a delightful dream.