Part 1 (2/2)

His anger was rare, but it was terrible as a thunderbolt. In ordinary life there could not be found a more affable or benevolent lord. It has even been remarked that the more he disliked a man, the more sweetly he smiled on him; and the day before they were imprisoned in Konigstein, where his favourites had sometimes had to remain for several years, Augustus would embrace them as though they were his dearest friends; so n.o.ble was his nature, so wishful was he to soften the hard lot of his people.

As it was necessary for the lord to have some amus.e.m.e.nt, it was nothing remarkable that two bears should sometimes be brought to the castle, or two enemies made drunk, and then induced to fight. This was a sport in which the King especially delighted, and when two drunken Vitzthums, Friesens or Hoyms, began to quarrel, he used to split his sides with laughing. This was such an innocent recreation.

The King could make them quarrel very easily, for he knew everything--he knew who was in love, and with whom; which man hated the other; how much money they had taken from his treasury without his permission; he even knew what each of his courtiers was thinking, and if he did not know, he guessed. Who the spies were who betrayed them, the courtiers could by no means discover; and the result of this was that each one suspected his neighbour; brother was afraid of brother; the husband distrusted the wife; the father had no confidence in his son; and King Augustus the Strong looked on, and laughed at the mob!

Yes, from his exalted position he looked down on the comedy of life, not disdaining to play in it the role of Jove, Hercules, and Apollo--and in the evening the role of Bacchus.

On the evening in question, being very sad and weary, the King determined to make all his ministers and favourites drunk, and then make them confess for his amus.e.m.e.nt.

The select companions of the King's feast were seated in a brilliantly lighted room, one side of which was occupied by an enormous sideboard, bright with silver and cut gla.s.s. Amongst those present were: Count Taparel Lagnasco, who had just arrived from Rome; Count Wackerbarth, from Vienna, Watzdorf, called the peasant of Mansfeld; Furstenberg, Imhoff, Friesen, Vitzthum, and Hoym; and last, but not least, Friedrich Wilhelm, Baron Kyan, famous for his wit, who made every one else laugh, whilst he remained perfectly serious.

The King, with dress and vest unfastened, sat leaning on one elbow--he was very sad. His handsome face, usually so bright, was veiled in a mist of sorrow. Several empty bottles bore witness to the fact that drinking had already continued for some time, yet on the King's face no results of the goodly wine were visible. The golden liquid had not been able to make his gloomy thoughts more bright.

The courtiers jested with each other, endeavouring to make their lord laugh, but without avail. Augustus sat silent and thoughtful, as though he heard not a word that was spoken. This was most unusual; the King was so seldom sad, indeed he was ever eager for mirth and distraction.

His companions grew uneasy and looked at him askance.

At the opposite end of the table sat Kyan, gloomy, and una.s.suming. As though to mock the King, he also leaned on one elbow, stretched out his legs, and looked up at the ceiling with a deep sigh.

His melancholy air gave him an absurd appearance.

”Hark you,” whispered Furstenberg, nudging Wackerbarth with his elbow--they were both tipsy by this time--”do you see our lord? Nothing makes him smile--and it is already eleven o'clock--he ought to be in a good humour by now. This is our fault.”

”I am here as a guest,” replied Wackerbarth, shrugging his shoulders.

”It is none of my business; as you know him better than I do, you should find the proper way to amuse him.”

”He is tired of Lubomirska--that is clear,” added Taparel.

”And then it is difficult to digest those Swedes,” whispered Wackerbarth. ”I do not wonder at him.”

”Eh! Eh! We have forgotten all about the Swedes; some one else will defeat them for us, we can be sure of that, and then we will go and gather the fruits,” said Furstenberg. ”He is not bothered about the Swedes, but he has had enough of Lubomirska--we must find him some other woman.”

”Is that such a difficult matter?” whispered Wackerbarth.

Then they began to whisper together, but so low that they could not be overheard, for, as though suddenly awakened from slumber, the King was looking round on his companions. His glance wandered from one to another, until it rested at length on the tragic pose of Baron Kyan, and on seeing this the monarch burst into a hearty laugh.

This was quite sufficient to make every one else laugh.

”Kyan,” cried the King, ”what is the matter with you? Has your sweetheart betrayed you? Have you no money? You look just like Prometheus, with an invisible eagle devouring your liver.”

Kyan turned slowly round, much after the fas.h.i.+on of a wooden doll, and drew a deep sigh; so deep was it that it extinguished a six-light candelabra that was standing near him.

”Kyan, what is the matter with you?” repeated the King.

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