Why the devil should you want _me_ to give you directions? Were I to tell you to stay and amuse yourself with your new lover, or were I to tell you to come here, it would not matter—you would find some excuse for quarrelling with me in either case.” “_Saturday_, _July_ 24/_August_ 3. “My letter of yesterday has no doubt surprised you. When I read it over I said to myself: ‘Is it possible I could come to such a pass as to write such a letter to the woman who is dearer to me than all the world?’ I was ashamed to send it, but after reading your letter three times I determined to send mine on to you. Looking at things in the right light, I ought to be more manly; I ought not to be so sensitive. I am much obliged to Stubenfol for spreading such monstrous reports about my banquet. You know the man he is—‘Much ado about nothing’. I don’t wonder he found my banquet a fine one, for he ate six partridges all by himself, and drank a whole barrel of sherry. It was the finest and grandest festival he ever attended—was it? Give him the same thing in a pig-sty and he will exaggerate it into having been served in the finest flower garden of Italy.... I was coming to the baron presently, but, for fear I should lose my temper, I will try to go to sleep instead: it is two o’clock. If I went on much longer I should write things I should be sorry to say to a lady.” _The Princess to Königsmarck._ “[CELLE, undated.]