The Youth of the Great ElectorMühlbach, L. (Luise)
General
The Youth of the Great Elector
Mühlbach, L. (Luise)
Friedrich Wilhelm, Elector of Brandenburg, 1620-1688 -- Fiction
But even while he pronounced the words he grew pale and cast around him a
timid, anxious glance, as if he dreaded being overheard by some traitorous
ear. Then he leaned his head upon the back of the armchair, and sat, long,
silent, and motionless, wholly absorbed in deep and earnest thought.
"Yes, it shall be so," he said at last. "He must leave The Hague; but it
does not signify necessarily that he will arrive here so soon. The way is
long, the roads are unsafe, and he must travel cautiously and
circumspectly, for many cutthroats wander about, and who knows whether the
Swedes may not make the attempt to capture and carry off the young Prince,
or murder him, that he may not some day contest with them the possession
of Pomerania. All this must, indeed, be risked; then--Master Gabriel
Nietzel must nevertheless still go to The Hague; only I shall give him
other instructions, and he will have a wholly different errand to fulfill.
Yes, yes, it shall be so; I shall have him summoned directly."
He had already stretched out his hand for the whistle, when the outer door
opened, and the valet entered.
"Pardon, your excellency. A lackey has just come from the palace. The
Elector begs and entreats of your grace that you will have the kindness to
repair forthwith to the Elector's residence."
"Present my respects to the Elector, and say that I shall do myself the
honor of waiting upon him. Go, tell the lackey that, and have my carriage
of state ordered out forthwith."
"Most gracious sir, I beg your pardon, but your excellency can not
possibly go in the great carriage of state."
"Well, and why not?"
"Your excellency knows that it has been raining four days without
intermission, and the ground is so soaked through that a man can not cross
the streets or square without sinking up to his knees, how much less then
a heavy vehicle. The carriage of the strange gentleman who has just been
with your excellency remained stuck fast a few steps from here, and the
coachman and footman, with a couple of our stableboys, are still busied in
trying to pull it out of the mud."
"Heaven defend us!" cried the count, traversing the apartment with rapid
strides; "then I must go myself directly and help the gentleman--"
But he suddenly bethought himself, and slowly stepped back from the door.
"With the help of my stableboys, he must already be again on the road--my
official from Sonnenburg," he said. "You think, then, that I can not take
the great coach of state?"
"Not possibly, gracious sir. It is a morass, such as has not been for ages,
and the townspeople have already brought out their mud carriages again."
"What is that? What are mud carriages?"
"Your excellency, I mean the stilts on which they parade around when the
mud is very bad."
The count laughed. "The end of it is that nothing is left for me to do but
to betake myself to stilts likewise in order to reach the electoral
palace."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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