My letter could be more imploring and submissive, but I did not believe that this would please his Majesty. I employ the expression which the king so frequently used: "That no one knew so much about his affairs as I did." This he was accustomed to say to me when he was in a good temper, and I hope thus to recall his thoughts. He often added, that no one bore such a resemblance to him as myself; but I have omitted this expression, as the words would be too bold. I should prefer that this letter should be read to the king at a favourable moment, than that he should read it first himself. I find it natural that a double doubt will arise with you, my judges, and with all to whom you may show this letter: (1) Does Brandt deserve, from the nature of the affair, that the king should pardon him fully? and (2) What more does he want? With the same frankness with which I have explained myself during the whole of my trial, I can assert, that you would at once feel the heartiest compassion, if it were feasible to bring my affair entirely to light, partly by summoning fresh witnesses, partly by cross-examining those who have been heard: but I do not wish this, even though it might cost me life and liberty. I will only mention a few slight but important circumstances, which might induce you to believe that I must feel a bitterness against the king: (1) That I am said to have bitten the king's finger. My statement proves that I did not hear of it till afterwards. Consequently, it was not done _animo nocendi_, but was a natural movement for a man to close his mouth when his tongue was caught hold of, and as soon as I perceived it, I asked for pardon. The king tapped me on the cheek, and said: "It does not hurt." (2) I myself mentioned that I laid a riding whip on the pianoforte, with the intention of taking it in with me to the king: but could that have been known without my frankness? and woe to us, if every thought were to be punished! (3) On this occasion I employed improper language to the king, although not that of which I am accused: but in the melancholy alternative of displaying my courage either in words or deeds, I chose the former. (4) An important circumstance, which rendered a proof of such courage rather necessary, was that the king often said: "If I was certain you were a coward, I would post myself behind the door and kill you." (5) But why was the king so angry? Solely because, from that time, I was more serious and submissive than before, which I did to render the king more reserved, but which had the effect that he supposed I disliked him; and a temper, which has been once rendered captious, soon places the worst construction upon everything. (6) I declare before God, who knows my heart, that a similar scene never occurred before or afterwards. The king once threw his glove in my face: I stooped, picked it up, and said: "Why do you do that? I am really not cross with you;" and with this he was satisfied.