“I have no news of you; I am restless, in despair, full of sad forebodings. I cannot believe that you would willingly neglect me, you have so deeply convinced me of your faithfulness; but I love you too fondly to be free from the anxiety inseparable from such love. I am not getting reconciled to your absence; it is intolerable, and nothing can equal my grief at being so far from my adored one. I deluded myself with the hope that I might have seen you after the review; I could have done so in all liberty, as the Prince was away. That false hope made me keep vigil two nights at the window, and every one who passed I fancied was you. La Confidente kept telling me differently, but I would hear no reason. “I must give you an account of my day. I retired after dinner. In the evening there was music, and I played a little,—that is all. You must be pleased with my conduct.... Do not forget your oaths, nor let absence lessen the love you swore to me, for I love you to madness, and the mere thought that you may forget is enough to upset my reason. Above all, be faithful to me, or I shall die. The Duchess to-day spoke much of your beauty and the regularity of your features. Alas! I fear me others will discover this comeliness too; it will cost me many tears. “I must end this. It is three o’clock, and I must go to bed. Never doubt my fidelity; it is inviolable. I will live and die yours only.” _Königsmarck to the Princess._ “[THE CAMP, undated.]