CHAPTER XIII
The two antagonists were still to all appearances the best of friends, although, on both sides there had begun a secret conflict. That same morning Sulkowski spoke to Ludovici about Brühl's marriage.
Ludovici was more suspicious than the Count.
'Count,' said he, 'that marriage ought to make us careful. Brühl has married not the Countess Kolowrath alone, but with her he has married the Austrian Court, Father Guarini and the Princess. Brühl is sweet as honey, but he overthrew Fleury, Manteufel, Wackerbarth and Hoym; he put Watzdorf into Königstein; I do not trust Brühl.'
Sulkowski began to laugh.
'My dear Ludovici,' he said proudly, 'remember who they were, and who I am! He will not be able to overthrow me were he helped by Guarini and all the Austrians. I shall drive off Guarini and all the Jesuits. I shall give other courtiers to the Princess. With regard to Hoym and Watzdorf, you are mistaken, I sent them away, not he.'
'That is to say he did it by means of your Excellency's hands; is facit, cui prodest; I remember that when I studied law. Watzdorf was in love with his present wife.'
'You must not try to teach me anything about court affairs,' said Sulkowski, 'I know what I am about, and none of you know how strong my influence is with the Prince.'
'I do not doubt that,' Ludovici said bowing.
Sulkowski however remembered that conversation. Although he did not betray his thoughts even to his confidant, Ludovici, the Count had distrusted Brühl for some time. It was a suspicious circumstance to him that Brühl was continually with Frederick, remaining for hours with him together with the two fools and Guarini, and accompanied him everywhere, so that the Prince grew accustomed to his face. Several times already he had asked after Brühl when he had been absent longer than usual. Little by little his presence became indispensable.
Sulkowski did not even dream that this could menace him, but he did not wish for any rivals; he was jealous, and alone must be the object of the Prince's favour.
'Brühl must be got rid of,' he said to himself. 'I shall easily find an excuse. I must prepare the Prince.'
The same day after dinner, when the Prince retired as usual to his apartment, put on his robe de chambre, sat in a chair and began to smoke a pipe, Sulkowski entered followed by a man carrying a case; he took it from the servant in the ante-room and brought it to the Prince's room.
The Prince during his travels in Italy had taken a fancy to certain masterpieces of Italian art. Wishing to imitate his father, and having inherited his love of music, hunting, luxury, theatres, and even for Leipzig fairs, he also inherited his love of art. He was passionately fond of pictures, he would purchase as many as he could get hold of to increase the collection started by Augustus II.
The best way to please him was either to tell him of some good picture, or present him with one. Usually cold and phlegmatic Augustus' successor would become quite another man at the sight of a good picture; his eyes would shine as they did on hearing Faustina's voice. It seemed almost that thought circulated more quickly through his brain, and, usually silent, he would talk and exclaim.
Even in his saddest mood, at the mention of a picture or an opera, his face would brighten up. Sulkowski, no less than others, was aware of this weak point in his lord.
Augustus III began to blow out the first whiffs of smoke when Sulkowski appeared on the threshold with the case. He looked round him, drew himself up, put out his hand, without a word. Evidently he guessed the contents of the case, personally brought by his favourite.
The King's eyes brightened.--As he disliked talking he urged Sulkowski by gestures only to be quick and disclose what he had brought.
'Your Majesty,' the Count said in a whisper, 'this is certainly a masterpiece, but--'
'But what?' muttered the King frowning.
'But,' the minister said, 'the subject is a little too mythological and if by accident her Majesty should come--'
The King became gloomy and less insistent; his face was stern and he moved his head significantly.
Sulkowski put the case in a corner; Frederick's eyes followed it. 'And who painted it?' he asked.
'The divine Titian Vecello,' said Sulkowski. 'It is not very large, but a true masterpiece.'
On hearing the name the King bowed as though greeting Titian himself, and whispered:
'Gran maestro!'
Sulkowski turned the conversation. The King looked at him as though he did not understand, became thoughtful and said to himself:
'Troppo mitologico! H'm!'
After a while when the minister spoke of hunting he said, 'What does it represent?'
The Count made a gesture with his hand.
'A very improper scene,' he said.
'Fie 'Hide it! If the Queen should come in, or Father Guarini--fie!'
Notwithstanding his apparent disapproval, his gaze turned constantly to the case.
'I think it would be best to take it away,' said Sulkowski, going towards the case.
The King frowned.
'But just tell me what it represents.'
'Mars and Venus at the moment when Vulcan catches them in flagrante and puts a net round them.'
The King shut his eyes and waved his hand.
'Fie! Fie!' he exclaimed. Sulkowski put the case under his arm.
'But to see it for the sake of art,' said the King, 'is only an ordinary sin. I shall confess it to Father Guarini--three paters and all is over--'
He stretched out his arm, Sulkowski smiled, opened the case, lifted the cover, and moved the picture towards the King. The pipe fell from his hands.
It was indeed a small masterpiece. The woman it represented was the same belle who sat for Titian's Venus and Diana; a marvellously beautiful woman, but in very fact in a very mythological position.
The King looked at it furtively, evidently ashamed of his curiosity; he blushed, but continued to gaze at the picture. He repeated, 'un gran maestro!' His eyes shone. He paid no attention to Sulkowski and began to whisper:
'Venus is very beautiful. Classical forms! What a charming, what a lovely favola!'
Suddenly overcome with shame, he looked round, pushed aside the picture, spat, made the sign of the cross, and said severely:
'Away with it! I do not wish to lose my soul. Why do you show me such things?'
'But what about the painting, your Majesty?'
'It is a masterpiece, but away with it!' Sulkowski shut the case and was about to carry it away, when the King stopped him.
'Wait--it is better that no one else should be scandalised by it; put it there in the corner; then we shall see--we shall burn it.'
'Burn such a masterpiece?'
The King became thoughtful and continued to smoke the pipe. The minister put the case behind the sofa and returned to the King. Still under the influence of the picture Augustus III continually murmured: 'Diavolo incarnato!' and he shrugged his shoulders, 'but the picture is admirable. If Mars were not there, and if one could change Venus into repenting Magdalene, I would hang it in my room.'
'Your Majesty, there is no indecency in works of art, one admires only the picture of a master.'
The King was silent.
'I must confess to Father Guarini,' he said presently.
'I am sure that the Padre himself,' said Sulkowski, 'would look at this masterpiece, and not think of confession.'
'Siete un birbante!' muttered the King. 'Tace! basta!'
Thus the conversation about Titian's Venus ended, and as Brühl was not there the King asked after him. Sulkowski sighed. Augustus III glanced at him.
'I see,' said Sulkowski, 'that Brühl supersedes me in your Majesty's favour, and the sight hurts an old and faithful servant like myself. For that alone I could dislike him.'
The King cleared his throat significantly.
'He is a useful man, but has many drawbacks,' continued Sulkowski. 'I am afraid of him. He is mixed up with everything, he takes hold of everything--he squanders the money--is fond of luxury--'
'Oh! Oh! Oh!' muttered the King, shaking his head.
'It is true, your Majesty.'
Sulkowski became silent and looked sad. The King pitied him.
'Sulkowski,' he said, 'don't be afraid, there is plenty of room for both of you, and you will always stand first with me.'
After these words, which were quite an effort for the silent Augustus III, Sulkowski kissed his hand. The King embraced him.
'You are my true friend, but I need Brühl.'
This time Sulkowski did not press the matter further, but made up his mind to pursue the same subject on some future occasion, and allow it to act slowly on the King; he noticed however, that Augustus III was growing accustomed to Brühl, and of this he was afraid.
The King smoked his pipe contentedly, sitting up straight in his chair, blinking his eyes and thinking, as he was wont to do when at peace with all the world. There was a soft rap at the door. It announced that some privileged person, one who was permitted to enter the King's room without being previously announced, was coming. It was Father Guarini. He entered quietly and smiling; the King greeted him with a friendly nod, and continued to smoke his pipe and blink his eyes. Sulkowski, silent, stood near him.
The Jesuit's eyes, searching round the room, were quick to notice the case behind the sofa. He went towards it as though wishing to inspect something with which he was not familiar. The King seeing his movement, blushed and looked reproachfully at Sulkowski, who rushed to the priest and whispered something to him; Augustus III evidently wishing to be beforehand with his excuse muttered to Guarini,
'I did not wish to look at it--it is mythology.'
'Eh!' answered the Padre laughing, 'mythology might be dangerous for your Majesty, but not for an old man like me.'
Sulkowski tried to stop the priest, but the Padre insisted, while the King was embarrassed, and he frowned at Sulkowski. Guarini had no wish to give in, and repeated, 'I must see it.'
Sulkowski's position became unpleasant, for through this picture he had now compromised the King, who always wished to be regarded as a man of severe morals.
'Sentile!' said Guarini to Sulkowski, 'if you do not show me the picture, I might think that you have brought something very ugly into the palace, and that you are endeavouring to serve two gods at the same time,--ruling the country and being fond of art,--one of these two you must do badly, for the saying is--chi due lepri caccia, una non piglia e l'altra lascia.'
Sulkowski's conscience pricked him, and he went towards the case followed by the Jesuit. The King inclined his head towards the window. They lifted the cover; Guarini clapped his hands.
'A masterpiece!' he exclaimed, 'miraviglia! But why do you say that the picture is immoral? On the contrary! The culprits are punished. Vulcan catches them, and he, according to sensus paganorum, represents God's justice. As to Venus, the poor thing is not dressed, ma--'
The Jesuit waved his hand. The King looked at him relieved and happy at this explanation, and cried to Sulkowski: 'Bring it here! Show it to me!'
The minister brought the picture. The King was looking at Venus with evident admiration, when there happened what they dreaded most. While all were bent over Venus, the door leading from the Queen's apartment opened and Queen Josephine, like an avenging angel, proudly entered the room.
In the twinkling of an eye the cover was replaced, Father Guarini retreated towards the window, the King looked up to the ceiling, and Sulkowski tried to conceal the case. But nothing can escape a jealous and suspicious woman. The Queen Josephine guessed everything, blushed, frowned and moved towards the King who slowly rose to greet her.
'We are to have an opera to-day,' he said, 'Faustina will sing.'
'Very well,' the Queen answered, looking at Sulkowski, 'but I see that you have some other entertainment here. What is it that the Count so carefully conceals?'
The Queen painted herself and was fond of art, and by the shape of the case easily guessed its contents. The King, knowing her strict and exaggerated modesty, grew confused.
'An interesting picture,' the King said, 'but a little too mythological!'
Josephine blushed, grew angry, and looked at Sulkowski.
'I am also fond of art,' she said, 'but not that art which panders to vulgar, sensual propensities; the best painting cannot redeem a wicked thought.'
Understanding the nature of the picture the Queen could not insist on seeing it, and perchance imagined it worse than it was.
Sulkowski guessed that she was angry with him for showing a lewd picture to the King. It was a fact, that the Queen suspected the courtiers of inducing the King to indulge in such amours as his father had, and she considered that to show Augustus III lewd pictures would be one of the means of corrupting him.
Father Guarini changed the subject of conversation, protected Sulkowski, saved the King from embarrassment, and began to talk about the quarrels of Italian actors, whom he continually had to reconcile.
The Queen remained deep in thought and gloomy; she did not know how to conceal her thoughts. The King knew that she would scold him severely for being too familiar with Sulkowski; he sighed and longed for the opera, where, in his musical ecstasies, he might forget the sorrows that were unavoidable in private life, even though he occupied a throne where he could sit half the day smoking a pipe in a robe de chambre and smiling at the fancies of a slow imagination.
Sulkowski and Guarini slipped out, leaving the consorts alone, which was the best way of putting the Queen into a better frame of mind.
CHAPTER XIV
One of the greatest enjoyments of the court of Saxony during the reign of both Augustus's was the opera, one of the best of those times in Europe and in some respect perhaps even superior to the most famous theatres and orchestras.
Excellent as was the selection of singers in Augustus the Strong's times, the opera was in no way inferior during the reign of his son, who was also fond of music. While listening to the music he was exempt from talking, which he disliked, and permitted to plunge into reverie, in which he spent almost his whole life.
The French singers of the King, at the head of whom was Louis André, numbered about twenty and with them from time to time sang Germans, such as the tenor Gotzel, and Italians such as Annibal.
The court orchestra under the famous Hasse, Faustina's husband in name, was composed of fifty members; besides this there was also a Polish orchestra for chamber music, conducted by Schltze, which consisted of seventeen members. The King would take it to Warsaw when staying there a long time.
Operas and French comedies were performed by turns, for which purpose there were eleven actors and sixteen actresses, and in order to vary the performance there was a French ballet composed of sixty people under the direction of M. Faxier.
Enormous sums of money were spent to maintain so large a company. When they were going to give Hasse's opera 'Egio,' for which Metastasio wrote the libretto on the triumph of Caesar, conqueror of barbarism, there were on the stage a hundred horses, the whole Roman senate, knights, lictors, pretorian guards, heavy and light cavalry, infantry; and the booty was represented by gold and silver lent from the king's treasury for use on the stage. The spectators were amazed, the members of the orchestra were stupefied, and it is a fact that the drummer made a hole in the drum from sheer astonishment. There were two hundred and fifty people on the stage; the opera house was lighted with eight thousand wax candles and the manager was brought specially from Paris; his name was Servadoni. Some of the performances cost as much as 100,000 thalers.
Faustina Bordoni, still beautiful in figure and fascinating in voice, made a great impression on Augustus III. The same opera would be repeated again and again for months and the enthusiastic and dreamy king never tired of the same songs, which would lull him charmingly in the land of dreams.
About that time, besides Faustina, who ruled absolutely behind the stage, appeared the so-called Faustina the second, Teresa Abbuzzi Todeschi, not younger, but perhaps more beautiful, and equally daring. It was said that Brühl was her patron.
That day, after being performed many times, 'Cleophile' was again to be repeated. The King was already in his box, the theatre was full, the hour arrived--but the curtain did not rise.
This was most unusual. But la diva Faustina was a privileged person; they waited patiently.
In the mean while a storm was raging behind the stage. Faustina would not sing with Teresa--Teresa swore that she would not appear on the stage with Faustina.
Nobody knew why they were so angry. They both quarrelled madly, but though their tongues were let loose, they did not reveal the cause of their wrath.
A third singer, called Piloja, stood aside, listening to the stream of coarse street language, and smiled as though the spectator of a comedy.
The voices from behind the stage reached the hall, and Sulkowski sent a page to learn what the trouble was. The page returned, having learned no more than that it would require Neptune with a three-pronged fork to pacify the excited waves. Sulkowski whispered to the King and a page was despatched for Father Guarini who alone could unravel the mystery.
In the meanwhile Faustina and Teresa stood opposite to each other as though ready for a fight, both were ready dressed for the stage and neither paid any attention to the fact that their anger ruined the colours with which their faces were painted.
The duel might have been fought, had not Father Guarini rushed in like Deus ex machina. Seeing him both women became silent. The Padre looked at them, then took Faustina aside. He seemed to be scolding her tenderly.
A wave of expectation followed the dispute. The orchestra began to tune their instruments. Faustina went immediately to the mirror, which was a good sign, and Guarini began to talk to Teresa, threatening her with a finger laid on his big nose. Teresa was nearly crying. They whispered for a while, then the Padre cried:
'Pace! If you are stubborn, mia cara, you might cader dalla papella nelle brage. Hasten. The overture should commence. The King is waiting.'
At that moment Brühl came behind the stage; he looked at Faustina, nodded to her, then at Teresa, to whom he made some sign, and while the orchestra was playing, all took their places.
Father Guarini nodded to Brühl, and they both went through narrow passages in which the managers were omnipotent, making storms, thunderbolts, ruling over heavens and gods, into a small room behind the stage, in which a dressing table and women's clothing indicated that it was the dressing room of one of these ladies, who not long ago quarrelled so passionately, and who were now singing a most harmonious duet.
Guarini and Brühl were both tired and silent, they sat beside each other, looking into each other's faces; the Jesuit began to smile.
'Here,' he said, 'nobody can see or hear us, it is the hiding place of that viper Teresa, here we are safe. Let us talk.'
He clasped Brühl's knee.
Brühl bent to the Jesuit's ear.
'Lichtenstein has the plan; go with him to Vienna.'
'Va bene,' said Guarini. 'I prepared the Queen. I am certain that Sulkowski threatens that he will drive us from the court, that he will separate the King from the Queen, and that he will give him somebody else.'
The Jesuit laughed and shrugged his shoulders.
'He thought of it a little too late!'
Brühl's face became gloomy.
'One must know how to act with the King,' said Guarini. 'It is not his fault that he inherited his father's passions and that he must fight against them. The Bible calls it visiting the sins of the fathers upon the children. The Great Augustus in giving him life gave him also a passionate disposition. He will not be able to control it, therefore we must at least guard it from scandal, shield his sins and make them secret, and not allow them to be suspected. If we required from him absolute purity of life, there would be outbursts of this passion. Cosa fatta capo ha. What is done is well done. Sulkowski calculated badly, poor thing; the place is taken, the transaction is closed and although the King loves him he will not betray his secret to him. We are the masters of the situation; and I rejoice, for I know that I save a soul--the sin I take on myself.'
They began to whisper.
'Sulkowski,' said Brühl, 'is wearied; the King made him a general, and he cannot become famous by knightly deeds during the peace. He mentioned that he would like to make a military excursion on the Rhine or into Hungary. Did the King himself suggest that idea to him? During that time--'
Guarini muttered that he understood and approved the idea.
'I will tell the King that Sulkowski needs rest, and everything shall be done.'
The Italian made some quick gestures like a magician's pass before Brühl's eyes, rose and continued:
'Go to the King, applaud Faustina in order to please him; do not prevent Sulkowski from being near the King. I have good reason to believe that he is going to criticise the singer; the King will be annoyed, and it will be useful.'
He laughed, made a movement with his head, opened the door, and having stepped out into the dark labyrinth of passages behind the stage, disappeared.
Brühl presently appeared in the King's box.
The opera house was profusely illuminated. The court, as splendid as in Augustus II's time, was gathered there. The Polish nobles, clad in their rich national costumes, shining with precious stones, occupied the first places. The King looked towards them with a friendly smile. Among the ladies one could see the most brilliant stars of the court; the richly dressed Countess Moszynski, proud Frau Brühl, quiet Countess Sulkowski, the wives of the envoys, the Queen's ladies-in-waiting, everybody who had access to the court.
The King turned towards the stage every time the beautiful Faustina came upon it, and listening to her voice, closed his eyes as if he dreamed of angels. Sometimes he would applaud la diva, and then everybody clapped their hands.
The King very seldom looked towards the beautiful ladies and when he did glance their way, his eyes immediately returned to Faustina.
His admiration for her was justified by her voice.
Frau Brühl, luxuriously dressed, was sitting opposite the King, looking thoughtful. Her great challenging beauty attracted everyone's attention; the King alone remained unconscious of it, or did not wish to see her, and had not Augustus III been a simple-minded man, one might have suspected that he wished to hide something.
Beside Frau Brühl, sat, modestly dressed, the Countess Sulkowski, formerly the Queen's lady-in-waiting, née von Stein Jettigen. Her beautiful face had not the irresistible charm so attractive in Frau Brühl. With the Countess Sulkowski was a young girl. Nobody knew her. But being with the Countess as well as by her face and dress, one could guess that she belonged to a distinguished family.
The beautiful women of those times, more than any other, were remarkable for their ample, round figures. Small and frail girls found no admirers. Those famous favourites of Augustus II's were almost all bold riders, fond of hunting, of rifles and horses, looking like silvan goddesses, not frightened to meet a wild beast.
The unknown young girl, sitting with the Countess Sulkowski, was one of those beauties and looked like a flower blossoming on a strong stem. Pink and white, built like Diana, black-eyed and black-haired, she looked about her boldly and proudly. But in that daring manner there was yet a childlike innocence of any experience of the world. Her eyes looked at everything with childlike enthusiasm and boldness.
A black dress with some scarlet ribbons and a few jewels enhanced her wonderful beauty; all eyes were turned inquisitively towards her, and their owners asked feverishly:
'Who is she?'
Frau Brühl also looked at her neighbour.
The Countess Moszynski did not take her eyes off her, and the young men went in search of the Countess Sulkowski's servants in order to learn something from them; but they learned nothing more than that the young lady was the Countess' relation, and that she came from Vienna.
In the meanwhile Sulkowski, having noticed that Brühl went to his wife, bent to the King's ear and whispered:
'Your Majesty, works of art are worthy of admiration, but the work of the Creator also deserves attention. Although the Countess Stein is my wife's relation, I venture to draw your Majesty's attention to her extraordinary beauty. Neither Titian nor Paul Veronese ever created anything like her.'
On hearing this, the King turned, as though frightened, to his minister, looked at him reproachfully and in surprise, and plunged into further admiration of Faustina's voice and charms. Sulkowski withdrew. He knew the King so well that he was certain that, struggle with himself as he might, he would play the same comedy as he did with Titian's Venus. He was right in his supposition. The King with great caution, pretending that he looked elsewhere, directed his eyes to the beautiful Countess Stein. Then as though alarmed by her loveliness, he turned his eyes back to the stage. Some time elapsed and the King looked again at her. Augustus III's head still turned towards the stage, but his half-closed eyes gazed on that shining star.
As he looked round the King's eyes met Frau Brühl's, whose white finger lay against her little nose as if she were threatening him.
At that moment the King began to clap his Hands applauding the singer, and everybody followed his example. A keen observer would have seen how Faustina frowned at the King; how Frau Brühl looked at him impatiently, how Moszynski eyed her husband, and how Brühl smiled maliciously.
At last the grand finale resounded with the power of all the voices; the opera was ended. The ladies rose and with them the beautiful Countess Stein, the star of that evening; her graceful figure appeared then in all its splendour. The King dared not look again in her direction.
The court, after supper, retired before midnight. Brühl having received the King's orders went home; Sulkowski remained. Frosch and Horch slept in the corners. Augustus III donned a robe de chambre and smoked a pipe in his own apartment, for the smell of tobacco was forbidden in the rooms which he shared in common with the Queen. All those who smoked had separate rooms for the purpose; the ladies, feeling an aversion to the fumes, would not suffer smoking in theirs.
'I don't know' Sulkowski said, 'whether your Majesty deigned to look at Adelaida Stein, but I venture to insist that she is unusually beautiful. If our lord the King, Augustus the Strong, of blessed memory, were alive, I am sure he would admire her extremely.'
The King turned, looked at Sulkowski, but said not a word. Sulkowski laughed, took the King's hand and kissed it.
'I am your Majesty's old servant,' continued he, 'and I admire my lord's virtue. Your Majesty lives like a model nobleman, although kings have some privileges. During the performance to-day I noticed with what admiration the women looked towards your Majesty. Adelaida Stein told my wife that she never saw a better-looking man than your Majesty.'
He became silent. The King played with his china pipe and did not look at him, pretending that he heard not the tempter.
'Faustina sang like a nightingale,' said the King, changing the drift of the conversation.
'But Faustina looks well only on the stage. If I am not mistaken she is nearly forty and Italian women grow old quickly; Adelaida Stein is lovely.'
Augustus III, instead of answering, shrugged his shoulders.
'May it be permitted me to express my admiration? Your Majesty might be a saint, and yet not a happy man. The court is not a monastery.'
Augustus III listened, looking at the ceiling.
'Would your Majesty permit my wife to present her relation at court?' asked Sulkowski not abashed at the King's silence.
'Ask the Queen,' impatiently said the King.
'Adelaida Stein is an orphan: her only relation is my wife. We should like to do something for her future. If she were to win your Majesty's favour, here in the court, she might find a husband, and I know that she would like to stay here.'
Again he was silent, waiting for a word in reply. The King's reticence led him into an error: he thought he must be more explicit. Therefore he continued:
'If your Majesty should care for Adelaida Stein, nobody would guess your fancy.'
He looked at the King, whose face grew pale, his hands trembled and his eyes fell. Sulkowski became frightened and ceased speaking. Augustus III rose.
'Sulkowski,' he said in a suppressed voice. 'I do not wish to be angry with you--but you forget yourself.'
He paced up and down, his face flushed; evidently he was struggling with himself, trying to prevent his anger from bursting forth.
Never had his favourite seen him so angry with him. He was alarmed and kneeling on one knee put out his hand for the King's hand. Augustus III hesitated, but at length he gave it to him.
'Not a word more; everything is forgotten. Stein must leave Dresden at once.'
Thus saying, he turned away.
'To-morrow,' the King said after a moment of silence, 'send hounds and huntsmen to Hubertsburg. I have not hunted for a long time. Brühl and you shall come with me--the Queen also. I wish to hunt for three days. First day reindeer, the second par force, the third woodcock.'
Sulkowski bowed.
'I shall give orders at once.'
'Yes, have everything ready--we start in the morning.'
And having dismissed Sulkowski with a nod of his head, Augustus directed his steps towards the Queen's apartment. The minister followed him, and silently asked for the King's hand. Augustus III seemed to have already forgotten all that had happened, gave it willingly, and smiled as carelessly and cordially as usual.
The next and the following days they hunted in Hubertsburg and the forests by which it was surrounded. The King was in a good humour, which was the case every time the hunt was successful. Brühl and Sulkowski accompanied him. The first day the Queen mentioned that she had heard from Padre Guarini, who loved Sulkowski, that the Count would like to make a military excursion on the Rhine and into Hungary. It was attributed to his desire to get military experience in order to be better able to serve Saxony. The King listened to his consort and shook his head.
'He is already a good general,' he said, 'I cannot get along without him.'
The Queen did not insist. The third day they returned to Dresden and the same day the King ordered arrangements to be made for target practice in the courtyard of the castle. His usual companions tried their skill against his, but Brühl, although he shot well, took great care not to shoot better than the King.
Having rested for one day, the King went to hunt in Klappendorf. The following day he hunted reindeer in Grossenhayn, then in Stanchitz, and passed the night in Moritzburg.
Then he returned to Dresden, for Faustina was going to sing. The ladies occupied the same places; Augustus III looked at Faustina alone. Only when he perceived General Bandissin turning towards him, did he look round.
Countess Sulkowski occupied her box by herself. The King breathed more freely. He made some remark to the General and when the singing began, turning his eyes towards the stage, he glanced at Frau Brühl, who, sad and thoughtful and more beautiful than ever, was looking with contempt as if the whole world was a matter of indifference to her.
CHAPTER XV
The King's birthday, the seventh of October, was celebrated at Hubertsburg Castle. Augustus III was very strict about maintaining the etiquette of the court, introduced by the Queen. The whole court was gorgeously dressed at eight o'clock in the morning, waiting in the large hall for the King, whose custom it was at this hour to attend Mass. All the men wore orange-yellow uniforms, but as they were going to hunt immediately after breakfast, they wore jack-boots. Emerging from the chapel, the King and Queen, and everybody from the court who wished to please them, repaired to the so-called Rubenstein Cross. From there the hunt started, and the King rode after reindeer which had been brought to the spot for the purpose. Sulkowski, Brühl, the old General Bandissin and all the men belonging to the court accompanied the King, who was in an excellent humour. In the morning the Queen had prepared a surprise and presented him with her own portrait painted by herself. Having kissed the hand of the august artist, the King ordered the precious picture to be hung in his room. Sulkowski brought from Giustinian's in Venice a very beautiful picture by Palma Veccio, and deposited it at the King's feet. Brühl brought him a picture painted by Rembrandt. Pictures always pleased the King well. Those which he liked, he would order to be hung in his room and would gaze at them in silence, and only when tired of looking at them would he order them to be hung in the new gallery.
They killed three reindeer that day and the King became still more good-humoured, he did not speak more, but he smiled, winked his eyes, raised his head, and his face beamed with satisfaction. He smiled several times to Sulkowski, as if wishing to smooth over any impression that he was still angry after that unfortunate evening.
The hunt was over early and they went to Hubertsburg, where dinner awaited them. During the hunt the Queen was present, and although her gloomy face betrayed that she was tired, she made an effort to smile and be agreeable to everybody. Even Sulkowski got a few kind words from her.
As soon as dinner was over they started for Dresden, where an opera, three ballets between the acts, the smiles of Faustina and a cantata composed by Hasse specially for the day, awaited the King. At five o'clock, the curtain rose in the theatre, lighted magnificently and filled with the court beautifully dressed, and Faustina, dressed more carefully than ever, came forth staring at the King's box.
The new King was beaming with joy, quite happy because his life flowed smoothly, not disturbed by anything. He never asked the Fates for more, neither for fame, nor conquests; all he cared for was perfect quiet, during which he could eat, laughing at Frosch and Horch, then smoke a pipe, look at good pictures, listen to Padre Guarini's chatter, enjoy Faustina's singing and go to bed, with no misgivings for the next day.
In his quiet life there was however a dark secret. No one knew the King better than Sulkowski, but even from him was hidden one of the corners of his character, in which was hiding a passion ashamed to show itself to the world and the people.
Father Guarini alone, as a confessor, knew how strong that passion was, and he alone could entirely subdue the King. Following his directions Brühl assisted by his mother-in-law and his wife took the impregnable stronghold and was master of it before Sulkowski made the attempt. When he took that unfortunate step it was already too late. The place was taken, another was already in possession, even his best friend Brühl, who pretended that he knew nothing and that he did not wish to know anything, never betraying the secret even by the slightest allusion, and was more powerful than Sulkowski who never even suspected that there could be anyone more essential to the King than himself.
After the attempt with Adelaida Stein, he felt still stronger, thinking that his failure was the best proof that no one could dominate the King by means of a woman. While he felt so assured he stood on the edge of a precipice which he did not see.
Faustina made a great effort that day and sang marvellously. The King raising his eyes was in ecstasies. It seemed that he was looking only at her, although a sharp eye could have detected that from time to time he glanced towards Brühl's wife.
Frau Brühl was charming that day. Everybody was astounded that Brühl could afford to pay for all the luxury with which she was surrounded. Frau Brühl evidently wished to be the greatest beauty of that evening and she had put on a gold and white dress in which she looked like a virgin. A very becoming head-dress, with a stream of diamonds, white lace on satin, diamond earrings, that shone like two big stars, made her the queen of the evening.
The Countess Moszynski with her severely beautiful features, reminding many of Cosel, was beautiful but in no way did she rival Frau Brühl. All eyes looked at her, she did not look at anybody. Leaning on one arm, she turned towards the stage, but her eyes fixed on one spot were sad.
Brühl was envied, at which he smiled. Dressed as gorgeously as his wife, looking fresh and young, he seemed rather to be a dissipated lazy man, than the most hard-working of ministers to whom the fate of the state was entrusted.
After the first act, a French ballet followed, conducted by Monsieur Favier, with the famous solo dancer Desmoyers, Mademoiselles Rottier and Vauriaville, who were dressed as ideal peasants.
After the opera the elite of the court were invited to a supper, as was the custom in the time of Augustus the Strong.
The enormous hall of the castle was illuminated with thousands of candles; the table was set for eighty people; there was a separate table for the King and Queen. According to the etiquette of the Austrian court only cardinals were invited to the King's table.
The King was in an excellent humour that night; the Queen was gloomy, uneasy, and sad as usual. The beautiful women, who softened her cold and majestic bearing by their charms, saddened and irritated her, although the King gave her no reason to be jealous: on the contrary he was most attentive to his consort and did not gaze at any of the ladies present.
The supper was served very ceremoniously. The dishes were brought in with great pomp, and every toast was announced by trumpet and drums. After ten o'clock all left the table in excellent humour; the King accompanied by Sulkowski and Brühl went to his apartment. Passing the row of ladies Augustus III affected not to see any of them, but when he passed Brühl's wife he exchanged with her a significant look.
Sulkowski did not see anything, neither did he guess anything. Taking advantage of the King's good humour he decided to speak to him confidentially and try to overthrow Brühl. Augustus was equally kind to them both.
They entered the room where the lackeys were in readiness to undress the King and to give him his much-preferred robe de chambre. Both ministers waited till the lackeys were dismissed, when Sulkowski whispered something to the King, smiled and pointed to Brühl. The minister noticed the movement and came near; Sulkowski began to whisper to him. It was evident that Brühl did not like what he said, he looked at the King, hesitated a little as though he regretted leaving them together, then he bowed submissively and left the room.
When the door was closed, Augustus III smiled and sitting in a chair, said laconically as was his custom:
'There are only you and Brühl.'
Sulkowski did not like the sound of the rival name, but he was obliged to put up with it.
The pictures presented to the King that day stood before him, and he looked at them with evident delight. Sulkowski tried to guess the King's thoughts.
'Yes,' said he after a while, 'Brühl is excellent for many reasons; he is modest, intelligent, never contradicts me. I do what I please with him. I am very satisfied with him.'
The King only nodded. Perhaps it may have seemed to him strange that Sulkowski should speak in that patronising way about Brühl, but he did not show it.
The minister walked to and fro as if he were in his own room.
'I have not the slightest reason, as I said,' continued Sulkowski, 'to be dissatisfied with Brühl; he is intelligent and capable, but has some faults--'
The King looked at him sharply; Sulkowski finished imperturbably.
'He is a spendthrift, he will cost us too much.'
Having said this the Count stopped before the King, as if waiting for some reply. The King cleared his throat, raised his eyes and was silent.
'He is a good man--' he whispered at length, seeing that the Count waited for his answer.
He finished by stroking the arm of his chair and looking at the pictures.
'If my gracious lord will permit me to express my thoughts--' Sulkowski continued.
Augustus nodded affirmatively. The minister bent a little and said in a whisper:
'Not now, for we need Brühl, but later on we could get along with small officials and thus save a great deal of money, for it would be very difficult to teach him economy. Although I fear no rivalry, because I am sure of the heart of my gracious lord, why should we make Brühl unhappy by letting his ambition grow? The Emperor would give the Kolowraths some estate in Bohemia, if your Majesty were to ask him. They could not retire there--'
Sulkowski looked to see what impression his suggestion had on the King, but he was gazing so intently at the pictures that he seemed not to hear.
The Count added--'Later, later!' but Augustus glancing at him replied neither in the negative nor affirmative and got rid of him by silence.
After a time he rose to look at the pictures, walked several times across the room and yawned, which was the sign that he wished to retire. Sulkowski, not at all satisfied with the result of his proposal, kissed the King's hand and left the room.
While this was going on in the castle, Brühl, sent away on some pretext, gave orders that he was to be carried home. In front of him there was another porte-chaise which he recognised as his wife's. They both alighted almost at the same moment. Brühl, who seldom met his wife, offered her his arm. She was about to refuse it but upon reflection accepted it, smiling ironically, and not saying a word she went upstairs with him.
On the stairs Brühl did not speak, but when they reached the first floor, although the lady wished to withdraw her arm, he did not allow her to do so and escorted her to her apartment. They found themselves again in the same room in which the first night after their wedding they held that interesting conversation.
From that moment they had met only for a moment and in the presence of witnesses. In the mornings the mother would be with her daughter, would take her to her house and keep her there under some pretext.
Brühl's duty was only to satisfy all his wife's fancies, which he already willingly performed; for the rest they lived as strangers, meeting only when obliged, and getting as little in each other's way as possible. Brühl was patient and polite. Sometimes he would meet his wife's inquisitive glance which she withdrew as soon as he noticed it.
Frances changed a great deal: she grew still bolder and more fanciful, she learned how to command her household, and required that her will should be obeyed in the twinkling of an eye: sometimes she was unnaturally merry, sometimes mercilessly ironical, sometimes coquettish with strangers, so much so as even to arouse jealousy in such an indifferent husband as Brühl seemed to be; she grew more beautiful every day. Although he was in love with the Countess Moszynski and although it was suspected that he had relations with Abbuzzi, being yet a young man he could not be indifferent to his wife's charms, which seemed to mock his passionate looks.
When they entered the dressing room Frau Brühl withdrew her arm and, going to the dressing table, put down her gloves. She expected that her husband would leave her and was surprised to see him standing between a table and a chair.
Her look seemed to say: 'You are still here?' Brühl's enigmatical smile seemed to answer: 'Yes, madam, I am waiting.'
'Have you anything to tell me?' asked she.
'Will you not permit me to sit down and rest, and look on your beauty?'
Frances turned and laughed, shrugging her white shoulders; then she turned again towards the mirror not without a certain coquettish movement, which Brühl noticed.
'Will you not agree that my position is a very peculiar one?'
'Mine is also peculiar; but neither you nor I need be surprised at that.'
'You made me hope, that sometimes--you might have a fancy even for your husband.'
'Yes! It may be that I said that, I do not remember,' she answered carelessly, 'but it is certain that I have not that fancy yet. Go and play cards with Moszynski or amuse yourself with Abbuzzi, and let me alone. You worry me.'
'I ask you only for a moment's conversation.'
'Let us talk then but about something else.'
'About the King?' said Brühl.
'I do not know if that will be permitted,' answered Frances laughing.
'Between ourselves--we have no sentiments, only a common interest.'
'You are right; then?'
'How is the King disposed towards Sulkowski?' asked Brühl.
There was a long silence. Could one have seen within the woman's heart, one would have noticed that the question hurt her. She knew that this man did not care much for her, and because of some strange caprice she wanted to please him, in order to enjoy tormenting him. An indifferent question hurt her but she did not betray it.
'Ah!' she exclaimed. 'You wish me to be sincere? Sulkowski, you and even the King, you worry me horribly! What do I care about your ambitions and your quarrels? I wish to enjoy life! The King is a doll without life!'
'For God's sake!' exclaimed Brühl, wringing his hands.
'Nobody is listening to us,' said she indifferently. 'You told me to amuse myself with the doll, or rather you gave me to understand that he might play with me, but you can't expect me to be in love with him. You know the King best. Good-looking, kind, incapable of anything doubtful, passionate without sentiment, attached without courage to show it, pious and superstitious, lascivious, timid, thoughtless, tiresome--dreadfully so.'
'Madam,' Brühl cried, 'were all that true you should not say it, and I should not listen to it.'
'Then let us yawn,' the woman answered and she opened her mouth: then she threw herself on the sofa as if she were tired, her head hanging down, her arms fallen along her body; in that melancholy and coquettish position she was charming. Brühl looked and sighed.
'You asked me about Sulkowski,' said Frances slowly. The minister nodded.
'Who can guess what that doll the King thinks? Has he a heart? Is he capable of love? Can he love anybody sufficiently to become attached? He is fond of Sulkowski as he is of his two fools, I know nothing more.'
'But if we are to rule, I through you,' said Brühl, 'we must get rid of him.'
'And send him to Königstein as you did Watzdorf?' the woman rejoined frowning.
The name fell as a stone between them; the minister grew confused.
'I give you my word, that it was not I, but Sulkowski, who sent Watzdorf to Königstein.'
'The word of a diplomatist?'
'No, of an honest man,' said Brühl, putting his hand on his breast. 'You could not say that I got rid of him on account of jealousy. Till now I have had no right to be jealous--'
'What do you mean by till now? Do you expect to have the right?'
'It seems to me,' said Brühl gallantly, 'if not today then to-morrow you may tire of this, who knows? Perchance you might deign to look at your servant.'
'It seems to me that you will have to wait a long time for that,' the woman whispered.
'I shall be patient,' said Brühl.
'Croyez et buvez de l'eau,' rejoined the woman.
Brühl shivered but said coolly:
'You ought to help me to overthrow Sulkowski.'
'Yes, mother told me the same, implying that he might introduce Adelaida Stein or some other woman to the King. What do I care for that?'
'But are you not fond of diamonds, dresses, luxury, high living?' Brühl asked.
They looked into each other's eyes.
'Very well then,' she said, 'we shall overthrow Sulkowski, it will be a revenge for Watzdorf; it will be a distraction. We shall overthrow that boaster.'
'But you must act carefully, slowly, you must--'
He wanted to explain to her at length, when Frances rose, as if lacking in patience.
'You think I need some instruction?' she said laughing. 'And what am I a woman for? You think it necessary to teach me cunning, how to pour the poison by drops, how to whisper traitorous words? How to answer suspicions with a double-meaning word? Ah! my dear sir, I was brought up at court. I looked at you ministers, my mother was my teacher, who, while still in the cradle, taught me how to lie, how to love falsehood!'
And she laughed strangely, almost desperately.
'Be assured, I shall overthrow him, and when I choose, you also--'
Suddenly she became silent, she put a handkerchief to her eyes, and went slowly to her chamber. She locked the door behind her; Brühl remained alone.