“You know only too well that I should not go away except on your account, and since you ask me to stay I will do so with joy. My greatest delight is to pay you my court. But, Madame, you are unjust to imagine I love you no longer. Is it for people we do not love that we change our moods and plans? Is it because I do not love you I suffer no end of humiliation, anxiety, and sorrow? I am not so unjust as you; I like to believe that you love me. There are many men who would not believe all you say took place, but for myself I set such store on everything you tell me that I believe it like the Gospel. Rest assured that my love is above all things. I see you in so tender a mood that I cannot find words to thank you enough, though I fear you are willing to let me continue in misery, even though you no longer fear your parents’ preachments. You are too charming, my divine Princess. I am so touched that I rule myself wholly according to your will. I would leave my head on the scaffold rather than neglect anything you may wish me to do. I had very little opportunity of speaking to you yesterday, yet I was much relieved, for the only sign I received, though given in haste, reassured me so much that I slept soundly. It is the first time I have slept since I came to Celle.... Commune with your heart: if it be true to me, it will encourage you to do something bold. Courage, Madame; see me for once—no more—half a quarter of an hour. I wish to thank you on my knees for your constancy. It is the only thing I ask you. But do not risk anything for me; it might spoil all. It is better to suffer a little while than always.” That his prayer was granted may be gathered from the following:— “The moments seem to me centuries. I cannot watch the daylight without raging. Why do not the hours shut up into moments? What would I not give for twelve o’clock to strike? Be sure to have ready _de l’eau de la reine d’Hongrie_, for fear I swoon of rapture. What! I shall embrace to-night the loveliest of women. I shall kiss her charming mouth. I shall worship her eyes, those eyes that enslave me. I shall hear from her very lips that she loves me. I shall have the joy of embracing her knees; my tears will chase down her incomparable cheeks. I shall hold in my arms the most beautiful body in the world. Verily, Madame, I shall die of joy. But so long as I have time to tell thee that I die thy slave, I care for naught beside.” CHAPTER XIII. CROSSING THE RUBICON. (1692.) Bist du mein? Hab’ ich dich wieder? Darf ich dich fassen? Kann ich mir trauen? Endlich! Endlich!