"The air is yet enchanted and intoxicated with the breath of the Great Frederick; it should not be desecrated with another name.--Farewell, we will meet in Berlin."
Not far from these gentlemen stood two others, wrapped in long military cloaks, both of striking and foreign appearance; the one, of slight delicate figure, of dark complexion, noble and handsome face, must be an Italian, as his very black hair and eyes betrayed;the other, tall, broad-shouldered, of Herculean stature, belonged to North Germany, as the blond hair, light blue eyes, and features indicated. A pleasing smile played around his thick, curled lips, and only when he glanced at his companion did it die away, and change to one of respectful devotion. At this instant the king passed. The Italian pressed the arm of his companion.
"The arch fiend himself," he murmured softly, "the demon of unbelief, to whom nothing is sacred, and nothing intimidates. The contemptuously smiling spirit of negation, which is called enlightenment, and is but darkness, to whom belief is superstition, and enlightening only deception. Woe to him!""Woe to him!" repeated the other.
The king was followed by his brilliant and select staff in motley confusion. First, Prince Henry, and then the Prince of Prussia. As the latter passed the two gentlemen, the Italian pressed the arm of his companion still harder. "Look at him attentively, my son," said he, "that is our future and our hope in this country."The Hercules turned hastily, with a look of astonishment, to the Italian. "The Prince of Prussia?" asked he, with amazement.
The Italian nodded. "Do you doubt it?" he added, reproachfully.
"Would you doubt your lord and master, because he reveals to you what you cannot seize with your clouded spirit?""No, no, master, I am only surprised that you hope for good from this lost-in-sin successor to the throne.""Yes, you are poor, human children," sighed the Italian, compassionately smiling; "prompt to judge, mistaking light for darkness, and darkness for light. I have already remarked that to the celebrated and austere Minister Sully, as he complained to me of the levity and immorality of the French king, Henry IV. I told him that austere morals and moral laws suffered exceptions, and that those through whom the welfare of humanity should be furthered, had to transfer their heavenly bliss of love to the earthly sphere.
Sully would contest the question with me, but I defeated him, while I repeated to him what the beautiful and unhappy Queen of Scotland, Mary Stuart, once said to me.""Mary Stuart!" cried the other, vehemently.
"Yes, Mary Stuart," answered the Italian, earnestly. "Come, my son, let us go. We have seen what we wished to see, and that is sufficient. Give me thy arm, and let us depart."They departed arm in arm, withdrawing from the crowd, and taking the broad walk which crossed to the park.
"You were about to relate to me the answer which Mary Stuart gave to you, sir," said the Hercules, timidly.
"True; I will now relate it to you," he answered, with sadness. "It was in Edinburgh I had surprised Mary (as I was admitted without ceremony), in her boudoir, as the handsome Rizzio sat at her feet, and sang love-songs to her. She was resting upon a gold-embroidered divan, and her figure appeared to great advantage in the heavenly blue, silver-embroidered gauze robe, which covered her beautiful limbs like a cloud. In her hair sparkled two diamonds, like two stars fallen from heaven, and more glowing still were her eyes, which tenderly rested upon Rizzio. Leaning upon her elbow, she inclined toward Rizzio, who, lute in hand, was looking up to her with a countenance expressive of the deepest love. It was a glorious picture, this young and charming couple, in their bliss of love; and never, in the course of this century, have I forgotten this exquisite picture--never have its bright tints faded from my memory.
How often have I begged my friend, Antonio Vandyck, to make this picture eternal, with his immortal pencil. He promised to do it, but at the moment he was occupied with the portraits of Charles I. and his family--the grandson of Queen Mary. Later, as I was not with him, unfortunately, to save him, death seized him before he had fulfilled his promise. But her image is stamped upon my heart, and Isee her now, as I saw her then, the beautiful queen, with the handsome singer at her feet. I had entered unawares, and stood a few moments at the door before they remarked me. As I approached, Rizzio suddenly ceased in the midst of a tender passage, and sprang to his feet. Mary signed to him, blushing, to withdraw. He glided noiselessly out, his lute under his arm, and I remained alone with the queen. I dared to chide her, gently, for her love affair with the handsome singer, and, above all, to exhort her to fidelity to her husband. Whereupon Mary answered me, with her accustomed smiling manner, 'There is but one fidelity which one must recognize, and that is to the god of gods--Love! Where he is not, I will not be.