Chapter 33

PRINCESS WILHELMINE _leans against the window-casing, deep in thought._ SONNSFELD _sits on the left side of the room, knitting a child's stocking._

WILHELMINE (_aside_).

Hour after hour passes! What will the Prince think of me? Or can he have learned my fate already?

SONNSFELD.

Did Your Highness speak?

WILHELMINE.

No, I--I merely sighed.

SONNSFELD.

It seemed as if you were talking to yourself. Don't be too melancholy. You'll soon learn the Bible verses and I'll relieve you of most of the knitting.

WILHELMINE.

You are too good--you are kinder to me than I have deserved of you today. That work is tiring you--give it to me.

SONNSFELD.

No, let me have it. You take the other one that is started. In this way we will gain time to rest later.

WILHELMINE (_listening toward the door_).

And we aren't even allowed a word with each other in freedom.

SONNSFELD (_rises and looks toward the door_).

It is cruel to let soldiers see a Princess humiliated to the extent of knitting stockings.

WILHELMINE.

Why complain? It is--of itself, quite nicely domestic. [_She knits._]

SONNSFELD.

What would the Prince of Baireuth say if he could see you now?

WILHELMINE.

The Prince? What made you think of the Prince?

SONNSFELD.

You cannot deny that his attentions to you might be called almost--tender--

WILHELMINE.

Almost--

SONNSFELD.

Such eyes! Such burning glances! I am very much mistaken or it was Your Royal brother's intention, in sending this young Prince to you, to send you at the same time the most ardent lover under the sun.

WILHELMINE.

Lovers hold more with the moon.

SONNSFELD.

And he shows so great an admiration for you that I am again mistaken if our sentry outside the door there has not already in his pocket a billet-doux addressed to Your Highness--a billet-doux written by the Prince.

WILHELMINE.

Sonnsfeld! What power of combination!

SONNSFELD.

Almost worthy of a Seckendorf, isn't it? I'll question the man, in any case.

WILHELMINE.

Are you crazy?

SONNSFELD (_at the door_).

Hey, there, grenadier!

ECKHOF (_comes in_).

At your service, madam. SONNSFELD. Have you a letter for us?

ECKHOF.

Please Your Honor, yes.

SONNSFELD (_to the_ PRINCESS).

There you are! [_To_ ECKHOF.] From the Prince of Baireuth?

ECKHOF.

Please Your Honor, yes.

WILHELMINE.

Where is it? Did you take it?

ECKHOF.

Please Your Honor, no. [_Wheels and goes out_.]

SONNSFELD.

What a dreadful country! The general heartlessness penetrates even to the uneducated classes.

WILHELMINE.

But how dare the Prince imagine that our sentry could forget all--all sense of propriety in this way?

SONNSFELD.

Would you not have accepted it?

WILHELMINE.

Never!

[_A letter, attached to a little stone, is thrown in at the window_.]

SONNSFELD.

A letter? Through the window! Oh, how it frightened me!

WILHELMINE.

Pick it up.

SONNSFELD (_doing so_).

But you won't accept it, you say. It can only be from the Prince--and it is addressed to Your Highness.

[_Gives her the letter_.]

WILHELMINE.

To me? Why, then--why shouldn't I accept it? [_She opens the letter_.] It is--it is from the Prince. [_She reads, aside_.] "Adored one! Is there to be no end to these cruelties? Have they begun to torture you with England yet? They will come to you and will try to force you into this marriage. But Baronet Hotham, the English Envoy, is my friend and your friend, and will work for you while he seems to be working against you. It is a dangerous game, but it means your freedom and my life. Love comprehends--Love."

SONNSFELD.

May I hear?

WILHELMINE.

It is a little message of sympathy--from--from one of our faithful servants.

SONNSFELD.

The good people are all so fond of you. You must answer it, I suppose?

WILHELMINE. Just a word or two-it is really of no importance whatever.

SONNSFELD. But we need not offend any one. [_Aside_.] What clever pretending! [_Aloud_.] Let me try if our grenadier is still as stubborn as before.

WILHELMINE.

What are you thinking of?

SONNSFELD.

We'll make the trial. [_She goes to the door_.] Here you--stern warrior--

ECKHOF (_in the door_).

At your service.

SONNSFELD.

Why didn't you take the letter?

ECKHOF.

It would mean running the gauntlet for me.

SONNSFELD.

We would compensate you for any such punishment.

ECKHOF.

You could not.

SONNSFELD.

Would money be no compensation?

ECKHOF.

Even if shame could be healed by money, that would be the one remedy you couldn't apply.

WILHELMINE.

And why?

ECKHOF.

Because Your Highness hasn't any money.

SONNSFELD.

Dreadful creature!

WILHELMINE (_aside_).

He knows our situation only too well. We must give up all thought of sending an answer.

ECKHOF.

May I go now?

SONNSFELD.

Impertinent creature! What is your name?

ECKHOF.

Eckhof.

SONNSFELD.

Where were you born?

ECKHOF. Hamburg.

SONNSFELD.

What have you learned?

ECKHOF. Nothing.

WILHELMINE.

Nothing? That is little enough.

SONNSFELD.

What did you want to make of yourself?

ECKHOF.

Everything.

WILHELMINE (_aside_).

A strange man! Let us cross-examine him. It will afford us a little amusement at least.

SONNSFELD (_to_ ECKHOF).

We are not clever enough to understand such witty answers. How do you reconcile nothing with everything.

ECKHOF.

I grew up in a theatre, but all I ever learned there was to clean the lamps. Our manager discharged his company and I was compelled to take service with a secretary in the post office. But when my new master's wife demanded that I should climb up behind her carriage, as her footman, I took to wandering again. I begged my way to Schwerin and a learned man of the law made me his clerk. The post office and the courtroom were just two new sorts of theatre for me. The addresses on the letters excited my imagination, the lawsuits gave my brain exercise. The desire to create, upon the stage, true pictures of human greatness and human degradation, to depict vice and virtue in reality's own colors, still inspired me, but I saw no opportunity to satisfy it. Then, in a reckless moment, when I had sought to drown my melancholy in drink, fate threw me into the hands of the Prussian recruiting officers. I was dazzled by the handful of silver they offered me; for its sake I bartered away my golden freedom. Since that day I carry the musket. The noisy drums drown the longing that awakens a thousand times a day, the longing for an Art that still calls me as to a sacred mission; the uniform smothers the impulse to create human nobility; and in these drilled, unnatural motions of my limbs, my free will and my sense of personal dignity will perish at last. From such a fate there is no release for the poor bought soldier--no release but death.

WILHELMINE (_aside, sadly_).

It is a picture of my own sorrow.

SONNSFELD.

That is all very well, but you really should be glad that now you are _something_--as you were nothing before and had not learned any trade.

ECKHOF.

I learned little from books but much from life. I understand something of music.

SONNSFELD.

Of music? Ah, then you can entertain this poor imprisoned Princess. Your Highness, where is the Crown Prince's flute?

ECKHOF.

I play the violin.

SONNSFELD.

We have a violin, too. We have the Crown Prince's entire orchestra hidden here. [_She goes to the cupboard and brings out a violin._] Here, now play something for us and we will dance.

WILHELMINE.

What are you thinking of? With the Queen's room over there? And the King may surprise us at any moment from the other side.

SONNSFELD.

Just a little _Française_ shall be a rehearsal for the torchlight dance at your wedding.

WILHELMINE.

You know the King's aversion toward music and dancing.

SONNSFELD.

Here, Eckhof, take the violin-and now begin.

ECKHOF (_looks about timidly_).

But if I--[_much moved_] Heavens--it is three years since I have touched that noble, that magical instrument.

SONNSFELD.

Come now! I'm the cavalier, Princess, and you are the lady.

[ECKHOF _plays one of the simple naïve dance tunes of the day. The two ladies dance._]

SONNSFELD.

Bravo, Eckhof! This is going nicely--ah, what joy to dance once more! This way now la--la--la! [_She hums the melody._]