Count Bruhl Part 17

'Ah! It's you?'

'Yes,' said the German, indifferently.

It was Ha.s.se, Faustina's husband.

'What are you thinking about? About a new _Requiem_ for the dead King?'

'You have guessed almost right,' answered the composer. 'I was wondering if the ma.s.s: _Sulla morte d'un eroe_, which I composed some time ago, would be suitable for the funeral service. I am a musician, and even grief turns with me to music.'

'But what will become of us now?' sighed Faustina.

'_Chi lo sa?_'

They were both silent; Ha.s.se walked to and fro, then stopped in front of his wife.

'I think we need not fear,' said he, 'for there is hardly anyone who could be put in my place, not even such a one as Popora, and there is absolutely no one to rival Faustina.'

'Flatterer,' said the Italian. 'Faustina's voice is like a candle that burns brightly--it will be extinguished one day.'

'Not very soon,' answered the thoughtful German, 'you know that better than I do.'

'But that quiet, pious, modest, ruled-by-his-wife new King--'

Ha.s.se laughed.

'_E un fanatico per la musica, e fanatico per la Faustina_.'

'_Chi lo sa?_' whispered the singer thoughtfully, 'Well, if he is not all that you say, we must make him so.' A bright idea flashed through her brain, 'Poor old Augustus is dead,' said she in a lowered voice. 'I should like to make a beautiful speech over his grave, but I can't.'

Ha.s.se shrugged his shoulders.

'There will be plenty of funeral speeches,' he said almost in a whisper, 'but history will not be indulgent to him. He was a magnificent tyrant and lived for himself only. Saxony will breathe more freely.'

'You are unjust,' Faustina exclaimed. 'Could Saxony be more happy, more brilliant, more favoured? The glory of that hero is reflected in her.'

Ha.s.se smiled painfully.

'He may have looked like a hero, when from his box in the opera, covered with diamonds, he smiled upon you, but the whole country paid for those diamonds with tears. Joy and singing resounded through Dresden, moaning and crying throughout Saxony and Poland. In the capital there was luxury, in the country misery and woe.'

Faustina sprang to her feet, she was indignant.

'_Tace!_ I will not permit you to say anything against him; your words betoken horrid jealousy.'

'No,' said Ha.s.se quietly, looking at her. 'My love was absorbed by the music, I loved the beautiful Faustina for her voice, and was entranced when I heard it or even thought of it.'

At that moment the door opened a little way, and then closed again immediately, but Faustina had perceived who was there and called him in. It was Watzdorf, the same who had called Bruhl to the Prince. His figure and movements resembled those of the bandit of the fancy dress ball. For a courtier the expression of his face was unusual, an ironical smile, merciless and biting, overspread his features, which were illumined by piercing eyes.

'I thought,' said he, entering and smiling to Faustina, 'that you had not yet heard what had happened.'

'But it was announced _urbi et orbi_ by the sound of the bells,'

replied the Italian approaching him.

'Yes, but the bells ring all the same for funeral or wedding; you might even suppose that a princess was born and that they called you to rejoice.'

'Poor King,' Faustina sighed.

'Yes,' said Watzdorf maliciously, 'he lived long, had at least three hundred mistresses, scattered millions, drank rivers of wine, wore out plenty of horses' shoes, and cut off many heads--was it not time after such labour to lie down to rest?'

None ventured to interrupt the speaker; Ha.s.se eyed him furtively.

'What will happen next?' asked Faustina.

'We had an opera called _Il re Augusto_, we shall now have a new, but will it be a better one? The daughter of the emperors, Padre Guarini, Padre Salerno, Padre Toyler and Padre Kopper. Faustina shall sing as she used to sing before; Ha.s.se shall compose operas as he composed before. It will be worse for us court composers when the first roles are taken by foreign pages and foreign lackeys.'

Ha.s.se bowed and said in a low voice:

'Enough! Enough! Suppose someone should be listening at the door. It is dangerous even to listen to such a speech as yours!'

Watzdorf shrugged his shoulders.

'Where were you in March last year?' asked Faustina carelessly.

'I? In March? Wait--well--I don't remember.'

'I see you were not in New Market Square where the drama ent.i.tled "Major d'Argelles" was played.'

Watzdorf said nothing.

'Don't you remember that d'Argelles who spoke the truth invariably, sparing no one? I could see him from a window. I pitied the poor man whom they put in the pillory surrounded by the crowd. The executioner broke a sword over his head, gave him two slaps on the face, and thrust into his mouth a bunch of his libellous writings. Then he was incarcerated in Kaspelhouse in Dantzig till his death.'

'An interesting story,' said Watzdorf ironically, 'but I pity more the man who acted so cruelly towards Major d'Argelles.'

Watzdorf looked at Faustina triumphantly and continued,

'Signora Faustina, during the morning you will be able to rest and get strength for your voice so as to be able to charm the new king and rule over him as you ruled over the deceased. And I can tell you that it will be an easier task. Augustus the Strong was a great seducer, whilst his son is fond of smoking the same pipe; when they hand him a new one he shakes his head, and if he could he would be angry.'

He laughed and continued:--

'Well, I am not needed here, you know all about it, and I must hasten to get my mourning suit ready for to-morrow. I must show my sorrow outwardly if I cannot within; no one can see into my heart.'

'I have forgotten,' said he suddenly turning from the door to Faustina, 'to ask you how you stand with Sulkowski? To-morrow he ascends the throne, and to-morrow also Bruhl will either return to Thuringia or accept the position of a lackey in order to overthrow him at the opportune moment. Bruhl and Padre Guarini are the best of friends.'

Ha.s.se called 'hush!' Watzdorf suddenly covered his mouth with his hand.

'Is it not allowed? I am silent then.'

Faustina was confused. '_Signore_,' said she, coming near him, 'you are incorrigible. Be careful.'

She placed a finger on his lips.