A Twofold Life Part 20

"Confess, my friend, that you have given me proofs of it. Besides, you are mistaken if you hope to obtain goodness from any influence whatever. The true man is everything to himself; what he does not become by his own strength, no other can make him. A character that depends upon influences is unmanly; the acts and developments of such a temperament are decided solely by ever-changing accidents. Prosperity has spoiled you; you have measured your powers only against those weaker than yourself; they have thereby become relaxed; and, if destiny does not compel you to put forth your strength in a contact with more powerful elements, all is vain, you will remain----" She paused.

"Pray go on," said _Heinrich_, bitterly; "I shall remain a characterless weakling, who balances to and fro like a juggler on the narrow line between right and wrong! Is not that what you meant to say?"

Ottilie gazed into his beautiful, restless eyes with an expression of deep sorrow. "Forgive me if I have caused you pain; I only wished to convince you that the use which I might be to you is too little for the sacrifice you demand."

_Heinrich_ felt the moment for persuading her had now arrived; for he knew by experience that a woman can never be more easily won than at the moment she believes she has been too harsh.

"You feel you have caused me pain, Ottilie. Oh, make amends for it, and follow me to my country as my protectress, my guardian angel! You reproach me with being unmanly. Well, if I am so, and depend upon influences, the one you exert over me will be my salvation, and that of all with whom I am connected by any ties. What do I ask of you that is so very terrible? I wish to make you mistress of a beautiful and wealthy land, to give you a position in which alone your superior qualities can make themselves valuable, wed you to a prince whom you greatly undervalue, and who will understand and love you as you deserve."

"I want no love," interrupted Ottilie, "I am weary of suffering; do not grudge my repose; I have, by a violent struggle obtained the peace of the grave. Oh, do not drag me back to life! for life is conflict. Ah, Ottmar, have pity upon me! Your glance sinks into my soul, and the spark that flashes from it kindles anew the vital flame which was buried beneath the ashes of my dead hopes. You seize my hand, and by some magnetic attraction I am compelled to follow you. I know not by what invisible threads you hold me: loose them and I sink peacefully towards the grave; draw them firmly and I am forced to yield to your wishes. Oh, the victory you obtain is an easy one! Renounce it, leave me, Ottmar! You can test your power everywhere; why must you try it an one who has no longer any defense save the resignation of a dying woman?"

"Good heavens, princess, what a strange mood you are in! See, this is the result of your seclusion. Whence come these thoughts of the grave?

You are healthy, in the very prime of life, beloved by all, regarded by the nation with the warmest affection. How could you resign yourself to such melancholy fancies? Nay, I will rouse you now. You must learn to use your vital powers, as well as I my moral strength. Why should you wither here, useless and lonely, without having fulfilled the eternal vocation of a woman? Even if you have no feeling for the man to whom I wish to unite you, you do not know that he may not become dear to you."

Ottilie sadly shook her head.

"But granted that you can never love him as a husband, you will some day as the father of your children. Fate has granted no desire of your heart, and with royal dignity you have learned to crush it; but, because the first joy of love was denied you, must you now also renounce the maternal happiness this marriage can bestow,--the only one which is a wellspring of lasting joy to a woman? I cannot believe, Ottilie, that with your pure, womanly feelings, the thought of being a mother would have no charm for you."

"Oh, G.o.d! have often dreamed of such bliss; but I am not born for it. I shall perish without object or joy in life."

"Do not believe it," said _Heinrich_, with melting tenderness. "Rise again in the strength of hope; a prosperous future is still before you.

You will find the prince a man full of delicacy of feeling and dignity, a man formed to understand you. He, too, bears a secret sorrow in his heart, and needs a wife who will know and pity the wound."

"Alas, poor prince!" murmured Ottilie. "That would rouse my sympathy for him."

_Heinrich_ suppressed a smile. "Do you perceive the true state of the case? You will become attached to him, for he is n.o.ble and wishes to do good to all. His despotic principles are rooted in his education; to him despotism is an absolute dogma, like religion. He now depends upon his confessor and upon me,--errors which are the result of his youth.

When you are his wife, he will, like all of us, rely on you. But even if you could never produce any change in his maxims of government, you will, perhaps, have the satisfaction of inculcating into the mind of a son what you have vainly tried to obtain from the father, and through the former obtain for your people the fulfillment of their dearest hopes. Then, Ottilie, your name will be blessed by thousands and recorded in history; then you may bend to death your royal brow, armed with the n.o.ble words, 'I have not lived in vain!' Oh, I know you will some day smile at the thought of the time when you were consuming away in fruitless dreams, and could find strength neither to live nor die!

Then I shall perhaps stand as your most faithful servant at the steps of the throne to which you gave new splendor, and a friendly glance, radiant with the pleasure of ruling and giving happiness, will be my highest reward, my greatest satisfaction. Take courage, Ottilie, and gain new strength to live, to rule, to make others happy."

Ottilie's breath came more and more quickly, as, following _Heinrich's_ movements, she rose from her seat. Her sparkling eyes were fixed upon his lips, and a ray of melancholy pride flashed over her face. "Ottmar, you have conquered. Happy I can never be, so let us try whether I can still accomplish some good."

"Then I have your promise, princess? You think me right?"

"You are right; yet it is not that conviction, but a secret necessity, which impels me to obey you, although I feel it will be my death. In you, I am well aware, my destiny is fulfilled; you have made me the prince's wife, you overmaster me by your powerful will, and call from my lips the 'yes' that you ask, and I am forced to utter it, no matter for whom. I must utter it because you ask it."

_Heinrich_ was perplexed by this outburst of long-repressed feeling.

The seriousness of his relations with Cornelia had already taken so deep a root in his nature that none of that frivolous delight which overwhelms vain men at the sight of their conquests stirred within him.

On the contrary, a holy awe seized upon him at the sight of the frank truthfulness of an omnipotent feeling. But he did not understand that this very feeling no longer needed to disguise itself; because, by self-renunciation, it had become purified and transfigured. He therefore thought himself obliged to lead Ottilie's feelings, as far as possible, back to their former moderation, and yet dared not wound this sore heart by coldness. "Ottilie," he said, at last, after a long pause, with an air of sorrowful resignation, "princess, do not make it too difficult for me to perform my duty as suitor in my princes's place. I might forget that I now stand before you as your subject, who no longer dares desire what belongs to his master!"

Ottilie looked at him earnestly. "Ottmar, that recollection would shame me if I could suppose you did not remember the oath I took in your presence years ago, and doubted the firmness of my resolution. But that you cannot do; you will not inflict upon me the humiliation of seeing myself misunderstood by you. I belong to your prince,--my heart to the past."

"Then let me offer you the first homage as my princess, my saint!"

exclaimed _Heinrich_, and sank an one knee to kiss her hand.

"The saints are above," whispered Ottilie, waving him back. "May they take us under their protection!"

_Heinrich_ did not notice that it was difficult for her to stand erect while she dismissed him, and armed with Ottilie's consent, pressed forward as unyielding as fate. With this promise, he held in imagination the portfolio which was to be the price of his years of self-deception. That he would rule where Ottilie reigned was to him a matter of course; to secure her influence over the prince should be his care, and to rule appeared to him the only really valuable gift in life. To a.s.sert his power everywhere, to use the terrible will which had divided his own nature according to his pleasure, to let it weigh upon a whole country bending before him, to promise joy or sorrow by his smile or frown,--this alone seemed divine, and could make him resemble G.o.d. He confidently expected to be appointed amba.s.sador extraordinary to conduct the affair of the marriage; the prince had no one more suitable, no one with whom his relations were so intimate. He reported Ottilie's consent, and requested further instructions, then arranged his own and Albert's business in regard to the estate, which was very badly managed.

Albert sought Roschen at her father's house, and learned that since the death of Ottilie's head waiting-maid, which had occurred two years before, she had filled her place. _Heinrich_ smiled when he heard this; he readily perceived that love for him had induced Ottilie to keep near her person the young girl he had tried to win; for true love embraces not only its object but everything connected with it. He had already often observed how n.o.ble womanly natures did not hate those of whom they were jealous, but treated them with sorrowful tenderness, how they kissed them as if seeking on their cheeks and lips traces of their lover's caresses. As we keep a flower or a handkerchief because the absent one has touched it, Ottilie had taken Roschen into her service to inhale from her presence the lingering breath of his love.

Poor Ottilie!

The prince kept him waiting a long time for his instructions, and Ottmar began to grow weary of his incognito. "Albert," said he one day, "you don't seem to have any great desire to see your Roschen. Try to arrange a meeting with her, and let me be a secret witness of it; I should like, for a change, to be present at such a touching scene."

"I have settled it with her father that I am to have an interview next Sunday, Herr Count," replied Albert. "Roschen cannot leave the palace whenever she chooses, so I must wait. But, if you are tired,--excuse the boldness of my question,--why don't you write to the Prison Fairy?"

"To the Prison Fairy? Why, my good fellow, you don't understand such matters. I neglect it because I wish her to love me."

"No, I don't understand it," cried Albert. "If that is what you want, I should think you would be obliged to write to her at once."

_Heinrich_ smilingly shook his head. "Blessed simplicity! Ten letters would not have the success obtained by the weeks of anxiety in which she has brooded over my silence."

Albert looked at _Heinrich_ almost sorrowfully. "But you have caused her pain. How can any one wish to grieve a creature he loves?"

"She will be all the happier in my affection afterwards."

Albert was painfully agitated, but kept silence; and in a few moments turned to leave the room, murmuring, "poor Prison Fairy!"

On the same day a letter arrived from the prince, containing instructions to make an official request for the hand of Ottilie, and appointing him amba.s.sador extraordinary. _Heinrich's_ duties now began.

It was a great satisfaction to him to play a distinguished part at the very court from which he had been so ignominiously dismissed; and when, in a private audience with the Prince of H----, he presented his credentials, and the request for an alliance with Ottilie, written by his master's own hand, he was delighted at the sight of his embarra.s.sment, and felt fully conscious of his own importance. The prince, pleased with the proposal made to his niece, overwhelmed him with marks of honor, which he accepted very condescendingly, almost patronizingly.

"Herr Count," said the old man, "you have shamed us deeply; for I know it is to you we owe this great piece of good fortune, and do not deserve it at your hands."

"Your Highness," replied _Heinrich_, "I joyfully seized upon this opportunity of proving that my loyalty to your royal house is greater than the sense of the mortification I suffered."

"You are a n.o.ble man, count," said the prince, pressing his hand; "our political opinions are dissimilar, but I have the highest respect for your character."

_Heinrich_ bowed low and smiled as he thought: "If I do not soon believe myself a n.o.ble man, modesty will be my greatest fault."

The solemn betrothal at last took place, and Ottilie remained firm. In the presence of what was now unalterable, and before the eyes of her man, she was every inch a princess. Pale, and almost as inanimate as a marble statue, she went through the usual ceremonies; but not the slightest change of countenance betrayed the conflict within. A weary smile sometimes curved her delicate lips; but even this was conventional; her eyes did not join in it: the same shadow lingered in their depths; and when she had coldly and firmly signed the deed, it seemed to _Heinrich_ as if her manner conveyed a gentle reproach. Her glance rested upon him as if to say, "You have conquered, cruel man, and I am your victim." The look haunted him incessantly, and long after the ceremony was over he felt as if there was a weight upon his heart, as if the deed he was to take to his master was stolen property, from which the mute reproach in Ottilie's glance constantly warned him. He had no compa.s.sion for the sufferings of this n.o.ble nature, deceived by all; but he perceived that there was a fiendish mockery in adorning such misery with the colors of joy. We have pity upon a sick animal, and let it die in peace; but he dragged a writhing, dying heart to a bridal mummery. It was devil's work, he confessed it to himself; and yet--the deed could not now be undone. Why did she allow herself to be so easily persuaded?

Meantime Albert's interview with Roschen had taken place, but led to no union. Roschen declared she would gladly become his wife and atone for the wrong she had done him, if she did not know that the poor princess needed her more than any one else in the world. She was very unhappy, and there was no one to whom she could betray her feelings. Only a short time before, when she found Ottilie half fainting and in tears, the princess said, "You will stay with me, Roschen, if I go to a foreign country, will you not? you will stay with me as long as I live, that I may have one true, faithful soul near me?" Then Roschen had promised never to leave her, and she would keep her word.

Albert asked why the princess was unhappy, but Roschen said she did not know; and even if she did she would never betray what was not her secret. When Albert repeated this to _Heinrich_, the latter exclaimed, with a laugh: "A rare instance of discretion; really Roschen might be a worthy companion of John of Nepomuk. Were you equally prudent, Albert?

Did you confide as little of my affairs?"

Albert reddened with embarra.s.sment. "Herr Count, I only spoke of things which I supposed were no secrets: your kindness to me, your friendship for the Prison Fairy--"

"But, for Heaven's sake!" interrupted _Heinrich_, vehemently, "how could you tell her that, of all people?--her!" Albert looked at him in alarm. "If she should tell the pr---- Oh, Albert, it was very imprudent!"

_Heinrich_ now watched Ottilie closely at all the entertainments given by the court, but observed nothing except her immovable calmness and apparent coldness; this, however, might be the result of her royal pride. But when, after the betrothal ceremony, he requested a private audience and was refused, he bit his lips and muttered, "Albert's prating has already produced its effect; she is aware of my relations with Cornelia!"

Yet he had again misjudged Ottilie. At the official farewell audience, in the presence of the ladies of the court, although very dignified and evidently exhausted, she was so gracious, and the prescribed forms of etiquette were pervaded with such an atmosphere of true feeling, that _Heinrich_ could not doubt that he still retained her favor. When she dismissed him she whispered, "Take all my future subjects my kind wishes and blessing." The words were simple, but they were accompanied by a significant, tearful glance which told _Heinrich_ all.

He again a.s.sumed the air of struggling to repress emotion, which he could so skillfully adopt. "Will your Highness deign to accept my heartfelt grat.i.tude for the message, and the a.s.surance that the blessing cannot be fully received until your Highness appears in the home of your subjects in person."

Thus the audience ended, and Ottmar was obliged to confess that Ottilie was a mystery to him. This was because the comprehension of true womanhood was still denied him. The power of virtue, the strength of self-sacrifice, which woman, spite of her many weaknesses, possesses, were unknown to him; fate still reserved this great lesson. He was to buy it dearly enough.