“I am glad you say that if any hurt befall me you will not abandon me. I almost wish I could see you again without my legs if it would give me the joy of holding you always in my arms. But you need not fret yourself; they are losing all hope of doing anything in this campaign, and it must soon end. Therefore, resume again your merry looks and lively airs; tears and sadness do not agree with fairs and baths. It is true I am not so exact in writing as you. I will not dispute the point; I know you cannot always write, for sometimes you are prevented by other distractions. Alas! if you were to find real pleasure in loving and being loved you would be the most satisfied of women. I should have believed you had you said your heart was without passion, save the passion for journeys; but I must be pleased, provided the journeys do not let other passions enter in. This is what I have to fear. Ah! if you only mean what you say when you write, ‘It is my desire to become an example of the tenderest love, the most perfect constancy that ever existed since the world began!’ “I assure you what Duke Frederick Augustus told me about La Marionette made little impression, for before that I was disgusted with her; her ways show the sort of woman she is. I have not yet even mentioned you to him. He cut himself with a sword and made a large wound in his head, trying to cut the head of one Montrany. I call upon him every day. He is most uncomfortable and dirty in his bed; all the bandages are swathed round his head, and, with that terrible mouth of his, he looks a very disagreeable object. But he is a good sort of prince. I wish he would become Elector, I should have a very good friend. My sister Aurora is already at Hanover; I think both my sisters will soon join you.... The Electress of Brandenburg will not go, after all, to Luisburg, and the court will soon be at Hanover. You heard about Ferdinand’s affair[162] some little time ago. Not only did he lose all his money, but he owed two thousand pistoles. The Huguenots who had won it from him could not get it, so they went to the Prince of Anhalt and demanded that they might be paid. The Prince sent orders to the illustrious lover to pay his debts before leaving Berlin. But Ferdinand, in a rage, went and told the Electress, and she was so annoyed at the affront offered to her fancy man that she sent word to the Prince of Anhalt that she was astounded at the liberty he had taken, and she would complain to the Elector, and so on. The Prince begged her pardon. I believe Ferdinand’s mistresses will find some means of satisfying his creditors and of getting him out of the scrape. But the funniest part of the story is to come. The Electress determined to take Ferdinand with her to Luisburg, but his acknowledged mistress begged her to leave him behind and she would pay the debts. The Electress replied with determination that she kept