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Prince otto

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Title:PrinceOtto
aRomance

Author:RobertLouisStevenson

ReleaseDate:September3,2010[eBook#372]
FirstPosted:November25,1995
Language:English
Charactersetencoding:ISO-646-US(US-ASCII)

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Transcribedfromthe1905editionbyDavidPrice,emailccx074@pglaf.org



PRINCEOTTO—AROMANCE
AROMANCE
BY

ROBERTLOUISSTEVENSON
Decorativegraphic
ANEWEDITION


LONDON
CHATTO&WINDUS
1905


TONELLYVANDEGRIFT
(MRS.ADULFOSANCHEZ,OFMONTEREY)
Atlast,aftersomanyyears,Ihavethepleasureofre-introducingyouto‘Prince
Otto,’whomyouwillrememberaverylittlefellow,nobiggerinfactthanafew
sheetsofmemorandawrittenformebyyourkindhand.Thesightofhisname
willcarryyoubacktoanoldwoodenhouseemboweredincreepers;ahousethat
wasfargoneintherespectablestagesofantiquityandseemedindissolublefrom
thegreengardeninwhichitstood,andthatyetwasasea-travellerinitsyounger
days,andhadcomeroundtheHornpiecemealinthebellyofaship,andmight
haveheardtheseamenstampingandshoutingandthenoteoftheboatswain’s
whistle.Itwillrecalltoyouthenondescriptinhabitantsnowsowidelyscattered:
—thetwohorses,thedog,andthefourcats,someofthemstilllookinginyour
faceasyoureadtheselines;—thepoorlady,sounfortunatelymarriedtoan
author;—theChinaboy,bythistime,perhaps,baitinghislinebythebanksofa
riverintheFloweryLand;—andinparticulartheScotwhowasthensick
apparentlyuntodeath,andwhomyoudidsomuchtocheerandkeepingood
behaviour.
Youmayrememberthathewasfullofambitionsanddesigns:sosoonashehad
hishealthagaincompletely,youmayrememberthefortunehewastoearn,the
journeyshewastogoupon,thedelightshewastoenjoyandconfer,and(among
othermatters)themasterpiecehewastomakeof‘PrinceOtto’!
Well,wewillnotgiveinthatwearefinallybeaten.Wereadtogetherinthose
daysthestoryofBraddock,andhow,ashewascarrieddyingfromthesceneof
hisdefeat,hepromisedhimselftodobetteranothertime:astorythatwillalways
touchabraveheart,andadyingspeechworthyofamorefortunatecommander.


ItrytobeofBraddock’smind.Istillmeantogetmyhealthagain;Istill
purpose,byhookorcrook,thisbookorthenext,tolaunchamasterpiece;andI
stillintend—somehow,sometimeorother—toseeyourfaceandtoholdyour
hand.
Meanwhile,thislittlepapertravellergoesforthinstead,crossesthegreatseas


andthelongplainsandthedarkmountains,andcomesatlasttoyourdoorin
Monterey,chargedwithtendergreetings.Prayyou,takehimin.Hecomesfrom
ahousewhere(evenasinyourown)therearegatheredtogethersomeofthe
waifsofourcompanyatOakland:ahouse—forallitsoutlandishGaelicname
anddistantstation—whereyouarewell-beloved.
R.L.S.
Skerryvore,
Bournemouth.


BOOKI—PRINCEERRANT
CHAPTERI—INWHICHTHEPRINCEDEPARTSONAN
ADVENTURE
YoushallseekinvainuponthemapofEuropeforthebygonestateof
Grünewald.Anindependentprincipality,aninfinitesimalmemberofthe
GermanEmpire,sheplayed,forseveralcenturies,herpartinthediscordof
Europe;and,atlast,intheripenessoftimeandatthespiritingofseveralbald
diplomatists,vanishedlikeamorningghost.LessfortunatethanPoland,sheleft
notaregretbehindher;andtheverymemoryofherboundarieshasfaded.
Itwasapatchofhillycountrycoveredwiththickwood.Manystreamstook
theirbeginningintheglensofGrünewald,turningmillsfortheinhabitants.
Therewasonetown,Mittwalden,andmanybrown,woodenhamlets,climbing
roofaboveroof,alongthesteepbottomofdells,andcommunicatingbycovered
bridgesoverthelargerofthetorrents.Thehumofwatermills,thesplashof
runningwater,thecleanodourofpinesawdust,thesoundandsmellofthe
pleasantwindamongtheinnumerablearmyofthemountainpines,thedropping
fireofhuntsmen,thedullstrokeofthewood-axe,intolerableroads,freshtrout
forsupperinthecleanbarechamberofaninn,andthesongofbirdsandthe
musicofthevillage-bells—theseweretherecollectionsoftheGrünewald
tourist.
NorthandeastthefoothillsofGrünewaldsankwithvaryingprofileintoavast
plain.Onthesesidesmanysmallstatesborderedwiththeprincipality,
Gerolstein,anextinctgrandduchy,amongthenumber.Onthesouthitmarched
withthecomparativelypowerfulkingdomofSeaboardBohemia,celebratedfor
itsflowersandmountainbears,andinhabitedbyapeopleofsingularsimplicity
andtendernessofheart.Severalintermarriageshad,inthecourseofcenturies,
unitedthecrownedfamiliesofGrünewaldandMaritimeBohemia;andthelast
PrinceofGrünewald,whosehistoryIpurposetorelate,drewhisdescentthrough
Perdita,theonlydaughterofKingFlorizeltheFirstofBohemia.Thatthese


intermarriageshadinsomedegreemitigatedtherough,manlystockofthefirst
Grünewalds,wasanopinionwidelyheldwithinthebordersoftheprincipality.
Thecharcoalburner,themountainsawyer,thewielderofthebroadaxeamong
thecongregatedpinesofGrünewald,proudoftheirhardhands,proudoftheir
shrewdignoranceandalmostsavagelore,lookedwithanunfeignedcontempton
thesoftcharacterandmannersofthesovereignrace.
Thepreciseyearofgraceinwhichthistalebeginsshallbelefttotheconjecture
ofthereader.Butfortheseasonoftheyear(which,insuchastory,isthemore
importantofthetwo)itwasalreadysofarforwardinthespring,thatwhen
mountainpeopleheardhornsechoingalldayaboutthenorth-westcornerofthe
principality,theytoldthemselvesthatPrinceOttoandhishuntwereupandout
forthelasttimetillthereturnofautumn.
AtthispointthebordersofGrünewalddescendsomewhatsteeply,hereandthere
breakingintocrags;andthisshaggyandtracklesscountrystandsinabold
contrasttothecultivatedplainbelow.Itwastraversedatthatperiodbytwo
roadsalone;one,theimperialhighway,boundtoBrandenauinGerolstein,
descendedtheslopeobliquelyandbytheeasiestgradients.Theotherranlikea
filletacrosstheveryforeheadofthehills,dippingintosavagegorges,andwetted
bythesprayoftinywaterfalls.Onceitpassedbesideacertaintowerorcastle,
builtsheeruponthemarginofaformidablecliff,andcommandingavast
prospectoftheskirtsofGrünewaldandthebusyplainsofGerolstein.The
Felsenburg(sothistowerwascalled)servednowasaprison,nowasahuntingseat;andforallitstoodsolonesometothenakedeye,withtheaidofagood
glasstheburghersofBrandenaucouldcountitswindowsfromthelime-tree
terracewheretheywalkedatnight.
Inthewedgeofforesthillsideenclosedbetweentheroads,thehornscontinued
alldaylongtoscattertumult;andatlength,asthesunbegantodrawneartothe
horizonoftheplain,arousingtriumphannouncedtheslaughterofthequarry.
Thefirstandsecondhuntsmanhaddrawnsomewhataside,andfromthesummit
ofaknollgazeddownbeforethemonthedroopingshouldersofthehilland
acrosstheexpanseofplain.Theycoveredtheireyes,forthesunwasintheir
faces.Thegloryofitsgoingdownwassomewhatpale.Throughtheconfused
traceryofmanythousandsofnakedpoplars,thesmokeofsomanyhouses,and
theeveningsteamascendingfromthefields,thesailsofawindmillonagentle
eminencemovedveryconspicuously,likeadonkey’sears.Andhardby,likean
opengash,theimperialhigh-roadranstraightsun-ward,anarteryoftravel.


Thereisoneofnature’sspiritualditties,thathasnotyetbeensettowordsor
humanmusic:‘TheInvitationtotheRoad’;anaircontinuallysoundinginthe
earsofgipsies,andtowhoseinspirationournomadicfathersjourneyedalltheir
days.Thehour,theseason,andthescene,allwereindelicateaccordance.The
airwasfullofbirdsofpassage,steeringwestwardandnorthwardover
Grünewald,anarmyofspeckstotheup-lookingeye.Andbelow,thegreat
practicableroadwasboundforthesamequarter.
Buttothetwohorsemenontheknollthisspiritualdittywasunheard.They
were,indeed,insomeconcernofmind,scanningeveryfoldofthesubjacent
forest,andbetrayingbothangeranddismayintheirimpatientgestures.
‘Idonotseehim,Kuno,’saidthefirsthuntsman,‘nowhere—notatrace,nota
hairofthemare’stail!No,sir,he’soff;brokecoverandgotaway.Why,for
twopenceIwouldhunthimwiththedogs!’
‘Mayhap,he’sgonehome,’saidKuno,butwithoutconviction.
‘Home!’sneeredtheother.‘Igivehimtwelvedaystogethome.No,it’sbegun
again;it’sasitwasthreeyearsago,beforehemarried;adisgrace!Hereditary
prince,hereditaryfool!Theregoesthegovernmentoverthebordersonagrey
mare.What’sthat?No,nothing—no,Itellyou,onmyword,Isetmorestoreby
agoodgeldingoranEnglishdog.ThatforyourOtto!’
‘He’snotmyOtto,’growledKuno.
‘ThenIdon’tknowwhoseheis,’wastheretort.
‘Youwouldputyourhandinthefireforhimto-morrow,’saidKuno,facing
round.
‘Me!’criedthehuntsman.‘Iwouldseehimhanged!I’maGrünewaldpatriot—
enrolled,andhavemymedal,too;andIwouldhelpaprince!I’mforlibertyand
Gondremark.’
‘Well,it’sallone,’saidKuno.‘Ifanybodysaidwhatyousaid,youwouldhave
hisblood,andyouknowit.’
‘Youhavehimonthebrain,’retortedhiscompanion.‘Therehegoes!’hecried,
thenextmoment.
Andsureenough,aboutamiledownthemountain,arideronawhitehorsewas


seentoflitrapidlyacrossaheathyopenandvanishamongthetreesonthe
fartherside.
‘Intenminuteshe’llbeovertheborderintoGerolstein,’saidKuno.‘It’spast
cure.’
‘Well,ifhefoundersthatmare,I’llneverforgivehim,’addedtheother,
gatheringhisreins.
Andastheyturneddownfromtheknolltorejointheircomrades,thesundipped
anddisappeared,andthewoodsfellinstantlyintothegravityandgreynessofthe
earlynight.

CHAPTERII—INWHICHTHEPRINCEPLAYSHAROUNAL-RASCHID
ThenightfelluponthePrincewhilehewasthreadinggreentracksinthelower
valleysofthewood;andthoughthestarscameoutoverheadanddisplayedthe
interminableorderofthepine-treepyramids,regularanddarklikecypresses,
theirlightwasofsmallservicetoatravellerinsuchlonelypaths,andfrom
thenceforthherodeatrandom.Theausterefaceofnature,theuncertainissueof
hiscourse,theopenskyandthefreeair,delightedhimlikewine;andthehoarse
chafingofariveronhisleftsoundedinhisearsagreeably.
Itwaspasteightatnightbeforehistoilwasrewardedandheissuedatlastoutof
theforestonthefirmwhitehigh-road.Itlaydownhillbeforehim,witha
sweepingeastwardtrend,faintlybrightbetweenthethickets;andOttopaused
andgazeduponit.Soitran,leagueafterleague,stilljoiningothers,tothe
farthestendsofEurope,thereskirtingthesea-surge,heregleaminginthelights
ofcities;andtheinnumerablearmyoftrampsandtravellersmoveduponitinall
landsasbyacommonimpulse,andwerenowinallplacesdrawingneartothe
inndoorandthenight’srest.Thepicturesswarmedandvanishedinhisbrain;a
surgeoftemptation,abeatofallhisblood,wentoverhim,tosetspurtothe
mareandtogoonintotheunknownforever.Andthenitpassedaway;hunger
andfatigue,andthathabitofmiddlingactionswhichwecallcommonsense,
resumedtheirempire;andinthatchangedmoodhiseyelightedupontwobright
windowsonhislefthand,betweentheroadandriver.
Heturnedoffbyaby-road,andinafewminuteshewasknockingwithhiswhip
onthedoorofalargefarmhouse,andachorusofdogsfromthefarmyardwere


makingangryanswer.Averytall,old,white-headedmancame,shadinga
candle,atthesummons.Hehadbeenofgreatstrengthinhistime,andofa
handsomecountenance;butnowhewasfallenaway,histeethwerequitegone,
andhisvoicewhenhespokewasbrokenandfalsetto.
‘Youwillpardonme,’saidOtto.‘Iamatravellerandhaveentirelylostmy
way.’
‘Sir,’saidtheoldman,inaverystately,shakymanner,‘youareattheRiver
Farm,andIamKillianGottesheim,atyourdisposal.Wearehere,sir,atabout
anequaldistancefromMittwaldeninGrünewaldandBrandenauinGerolstein:
sixleaguestoeither,andtheroadexcellent;butthereisnotawinebush,nota
carter’salehouse,anywherebetween.Youwillhavetoacceptmyhospitalityfor
thenight;roughhospitality,towhichImakeyoufreelywelcome;for,sir,’he
addedwithabow,‘itisGodwhosendstheguest.’
‘Amen.AndImostheartilythankyou,’repliedOtto,bowinginhisturn.
‘Fritz,’saidtheoldman,turningtowardstheinterior,‘leadroundthis
gentleman’shorse;andyou,sir,condescendtoenter.’
Ottoenteredachamberoccupyingthegreaterpartoftheground-floorofthe
building.Ithadprobablyoncebeendivided;forthefartherendwasraisedbya
longstepabovethenearer,andtheblazingfireandthewhitesupper-table
seemedtostanduponadaïs.Allaroundweredark,brass-mountedcabinetsand
cupboards;darkshelvescarryingancientcountrycrockery;gunsandantlersand
broadsideballadsonthewall;atalloldclockwithrosesonthedial;anddownin
onecornerthecomfortablepromiseofawinebarrel.Itwashomely,elegant,and
quaint.
Apowerfulyouthhurriedouttoattendonthegreymare;andwhenMr.Killian
GottesheimhadpresentedhimtohisdaughterOttilia,Ottofollowedtothestable
asbecame,notperhapsthePrince,butthegoodhorseman.Whenhereturned,a
smokingomeletteandsomeslicesofhome-curedhamwerewaitinghim;these
werefollowedbyaragoutandacheese;anditwasnotuntilhisguesthad
entirelysatisfiedhishunger,andthewholepartydrewaboutthefireoverthe
winejug,thatKillianGottesheim’selaboratecourtesypermittedhimtoaddressa
questiontothePrince.
‘Youhaveperhapsriddenfar,sir?’heinquired.


‘Ihave,asyousay,riddenfar,’repliedOtto;‘and,asyouhaveseen,Iwas
preparedtodojusticetoyourdaughterscookery.’
‘Possibly,sir,fromthedirectionofBrandenau?’continuedKillian.
‘Precisely:andIshouldhavesleptto-night,hadInotwandered,inMittwalden,’
answeredthePrince,weavinginapatchoftruth,accordingtothehabitofall
liars.
‘BusinessleadsyoutoMittwalden?’wasthenextquestion.
‘Merecuriosity,’saidOtto.‘Ihaveneveryetvisitedtheprincipalityof
Grünewald.’
‘Apleasantstate,sir,’pipedtheoldman,nodding,‘averypleasantstate,anda
finerace,bothpinesandpeople.WereckonourselvespartGrünewaldershere,
lyingsoneartheborders;andtheriverthereisallgoodGrünewaldwater,every
dropofit.Yes,sir,afinestate.AmanofGrünewaldnowwillswingmeanaxe
overhisheadthatmanyamanofGerolsteincouldhardlylift;andthepines,
why,dearyme,theremustbemorepinesinthatlittlestate,sir,thanpeoplein
thiswholebigworld.’TistwentyyearsnowsinceIcrossedthemarshes,forwe
growhome-keepersinoldage;butIminditasifitwasyesterday.Upand
down,theroadkeepsrightonfromheretoMittwalden;andnothingalltheway
butthegoodgreenpine-trees,bigandlittle,andwater-power!water-powerat
everystep,sir.Weoncesoldabitofforest,uptherebesidethehigh-road;and
thesightofmintedmoneythatwegotforithassetmecipheringeversincewhat
allthepinesinGrünewaldwouldamountto.’
‘IsupposeyouseenothingofthePrince?’inquiredOtto.
‘No,’saidtheyoungman,speakingforthefirsttime,‘norwantto.’
‘Whyso?ishesomuchdisliked?’askedOtto.
‘Notwhatyoumightcalldisliked,’repliedtheoldgentleman,‘butdespised,sir.’
‘Indeed,’saidthePrince,somewhatfaintly.
‘Yes,sir,despised,’noddedKillian,fillingalongpipe,‘and,tomywayof
thinking,justlydespised.Hereisamanwithgreatopportunities,andwhatdoes
hedowiththem?Hehunts,andhedressesveryprettily—whichisathingtobe
ashamedofinaman—andheactsplays;andifhedoesaughtelse,thenewsofit


hasnotcomehere.’
‘Yettheseareallinnocent,’saidOtto.‘Whatwouldyouhavehimdo—make
war?’
‘No,sir,’repliedtheoldman.‘Buthereitis;Ihavebeenfiftyyearsuponthis
RiverFarm,andwroughtinit,dayin,dayout;Ihaveploughedandsowedand
reaped,andrisenearly,andwakedlate;andthisistheupshot:thatalltheseyears
ithassupportedmeandmyfamily;andbeenthebestfriendthateverIhad,set
asidemywife;andnow,whenmytimecomes,Ileaveitabetterfarmthanwhen
Ifoundit.Soitis,ifamanworksheartyintheorderofnature,hegetsbread
andhereceivescomfort,andwhateverhetouchesbreeds.Andithumbly
appearstome,ifthatPrincewastolabouronhisthrone,asIhavelabouredand
wroughtinmyfarm,hewouldfindbothanincreaseandablessing.’
‘Ibelievewithyou,sir,’Ottosaid;‘andyettheparallelisinexact.Forthe
farmer’slifeisnaturalandsimple;buttheprince’sisbothartificialand
complicated.Itiseasytodorightintheone,andexceedinglydifficultnottodo
wrongintheother.Ifyourcropisblighted,youcantakeoffyourbonnetand
say,“God’swillbedone”;butiftheprincemeetswithareverse,hemayhaveto
blamehimselffortheattempt.Andperhaps,ifallthekingsinEuropewereto
confinethemselvestoinnocentamusement,thesubjectswouldbethebetteroff.’
‘Ay,’saidtheyoungmanFritz,‘youareintherightofitthere.Thatwasatrue
wordspoken.AndIseeyouarelikeme,agoodpatriotandanenemyto
princes.’
Ottowassomewhatabashedatthisdeduction,andhemadehastetochangehis
ground.‘But,’saidhe,‘yousurprisemebywhatyousayofthisPrinceOtto.I
haveheardhim,Imustown,morefavourablypainted.Iwastoldhewas,inhis
heart,agoodfellow,andtheenemyofnoonebuthimself.’
‘Andsoheis,sir,’saidthegirl,‘averyhandsome,pleasantprince;andweknow
somewhowouldshedtheirbloodforhim.’
‘O!Kuno!’saidFritz.‘Anignoramus!’
‘Ay,Kuno,tobesure,’quaveredtheoldfarmer.‘Well,sincethisgentlemanisa
strangertotheseparts,andcuriousaboutthePrince,Idobelievethatstorymight
diverthim.ThisKuno,youmustknow,sir,isoneofthehuntservants,anda
mostignorant,intemperateman:arightGrünewalder,aswesayinGerolstein.


Weknowhimwell,inthishouse;forhehascomeasfarashereafterhisstray
dogs;andImakeallwelcome,sir,withoutaccountofstateornation.And,
indeed,betweenGerolsteinandGrünewaldthepeacehasheldsolongthatthe
roadsstandopenlikemydoor;andamanwillmakenomoreofthefrontierthan
theverybirdsthemselves.’
‘Ay,’saidOtto,‘ithasbeenalongpeace—apeaceofcenturies.’
‘Centuries,asyousay,’returnedKillian;‘themorethepitythatitshouldnotbe
forever.Well,sir,thisKunowasonedayinfault,andOtto,whohasaquick
temper,upwithhiswhipandthrashedhim,theydosay,soundly.Kunotookit
asbesthecould,butatlasthebrokeout,anddaredthePrincetothrowhiswhip
awayandwrestlelikeaman;forweareallgreatatwrestlingintheseparts,and
it’ssothatwegenerallysettleourdisputes.Well,sir,thePrincedidso;and,
beingaweaklycreature,foundthetablesturned;forthemanwhomhehadjust
beenthrashinglikeanegroslave,liftedhimwithabackgripandthrewhim
heelsoverhead.’
‘Hebrokehisbridle-arm,’criedFritz—‘andsomesayhisnose.Servehimright,
sayI!Mantoman,whichisthebetteratthat?’
‘Andthen?’askedOtto.
‘O,thenKunocarriedhimhome;andtheywerethebestoffriendsfromthatday
forth.Idon’tsayit’sadiscreditablestory,youobserve,’continuedMr.
Gottesheim;‘butit’sdroll,andthat’sthefact.Amanshouldthinkbeforehe
strikes;for,asmynephewsays,mantomanwastheoldvaluation.’
‘Now,ifyouweretoaskme,’saidOtto,‘Ishouldperhapssurpriseyou.Ithink
itwasthePrincethatconquered.’
‘And,sir,youwouldberight,’repliedKillianseriously.‘IntheeyesofGod,Ido
notquestionbutyouwouldberight;butmen,sir,lookatthesethingsdifferently,
andtheylaugh.’
‘Theymadeasongofit,’observedFritz.‘Howdoesitgo?Ta-tum-ta-ra...’
‘Well,’interruptedOtto,whohadnogreatanxietytohearthesong,‘thePrinceis
young;hemayyetmend.’
‘Notsoyoung,byyourleave,’criedFritz.‘Amanofforty.’


‘Thirty-six,’correctedMr.Gottesheim.
‘O,’criedOttilia,inobviousdisillusion,‘amanofmiddleage!Andtheysaidhe
wassohandsomewhenhewasyoung!’
‘Andbald,too,’addedFritz.
Ottopassedhishandamonghislocks.Atthatmomenthewasfarfromhappy,
andeventhetediouseveningsatMittwaldenPalacebegantosmileuponhimby
comparison.
‘O,six-and-thirty!’heprotested.‘Amanisnotyetoldatsix-and-thirty.Iam
thatagemyself.’
‘Ishouldhavetakenyouformore,sir,’pipedtheoldfarmer.‘Butifthatbeso,
youareofanagewithMasterOttekin,aspeoplecallhim;and,Iwouldwagera
crown,havedonemoreserviceinyourtime.Thoughitseemsyoungby
comparisonwithmenofagreatagelikeme,yetit’ssomewaythroughlifefor
allthat;andthemerefoolsandfiddlersarebeginningtogrowwearyandtolook
old.Yes,sir,bysix-and-thirty,ifamanbeafollowerofGod’slaws,heshould
havemadehimselfahomeandagoodnametoliveby;heshouldhavegota
wifeandablessingonhismarriage;andhisworks,astheWordsays,should
begintofollowhim.’
‘Ah,well,thePrinceismarried,’criedFritz,withacoarseburstoflaughter.
‘Thatseemstoentertainyou,sir,’saidOtto.
‘Ay,’saidtheyoungboor.‘Didyounotknowthat?IthoughtallEuropeknew
it!’Andheaddedapantomimeofanaturetoexplainhisaccusationtothe
dullest.
‘Ah,sir,’saidMr.Gottesheim,‘itisveryplainthatyouarenotfromhereabouts!
Butthetruthis,thatthewholeprincelyfamilyandCourtareripsandrascals,not
onetomendanother.Theylive,sir,inidlenessand—whatmostcommonly
followsit—corruption.ThePrincesshasalover—aBaron,ashecallshimself,
fromEastPrussia;andthePrinceissolittleofaman,sir,thatheholdsthe
candle.Noristhattheworstofit,forthisforeignerandhisparamourare
sufferedtotransacttheStateaffairs,whilethePrincetakesthesalaryandleaves
allthingstogotowrack.Therewillfollowuponthissomemanifestjudgment
which,thoughIamold,Imaysurvivetosee.’


‘Goodman,youareinthewrongaboutGondremark,’saidFritz,showinga
greatlyincreasedanimation;‘butforalltherest,youspeaktheGod’struthlikea
goodpatriot.AsforthePrince,ifhewouldtakeandstranglehiswife,Iwould
forgivehimyet.’
‘Nay,Fritz,’saidtheoldman,‘thatwouldbetoaddiniquitytoevil.Foryou
perceive,sir,’hecontinued,oncemoreaddressinghimselftotheunfortunate
Prince,‘thisOttohashimselftothankforthesedisorders.Hehashisyoung
wifeandhisprincipality,andhehassworntocherishboth.’
‘Swornatthealtar!’echoedFritz.‘Butputyourfaithinprinces!’
‘Well,sir,heleavesthembothtoanadventurerfromEastPrussia,’pursuedthe
farmer:‘leavesthegirltobeseducedandtogoonfrombadtoworse,tillher
name’sbecomeatap-roomby-word,andshenotyettwenty;leavesthecountry
tobeovertaxed,andbulliedwitharmaments,andjockiedintowar—’
‘War!’criedOtto.
‘Sotheysay,sir;thosethatwatchtheirongoings,saytowar,’asseverated
Killian.‘Well,sir,thatisverysad;itisasadthingforthispoor,wickedgirlto
godowntohellwithpeople’scurses;it’sasadthingforatightlittlehappy
countrytobemisconducted;butwhoevermaycomplain,Ihumblyconceive,sir,
thatthisOttocannot.Whathehasworkedfor,thathehasgot;andmayGod
havepityonhissoul,foragreatandasillysinner’s!’
‘Hehasbrokehisoath;thenheisaperjurer.Hetakesthemoneyandleavesthe
work;why,thenplainlyhe’sathief.Acuckoldhewasbefore,andafoolby
birth.Bettermethat!’criedFritz,andsnappedhisfingers.
‘Andnow,sir,youwillseealittle,’continuedthefarmer,‘whywethinkso
poorlyofthisPrinceOtto.There’ssuchathingasamanbeingpiousandhonest
intheprivateway;andthereissuchathing,sir,asapublicvirtue;butwhena
manhasneither,theLordlightenhim!EventhisGondremark,thatFritzhere
thinkssomuchof—’
‘Ay,’interruptedFritz,‘Gondremark’sthemanforme.Iwouldwehadhislike
inGerolstein.’
‘Heisabadman,’saidtheoldfarmer,shakinghishead;‘andtherewasnever
goodbegunbythebreachofGod’scommandments.ButsofarIwillgowith
you;heisamanthatworksforwhathehas.’


‘Itellyouhe’sthehopeofGrünewald,’criedFritz.‘Hedoesn’tsuitsomeof
yourhigh-and-dry,old,ancientideas;buthe’sadownrightmodernman—aman
ofthenewlightsandtheprogressoftheage.Hedoessomethingswrong;so
theyalldo;buthehasthepeople’sinterestsnexthisheart;andyoumarkme—
you,sir,whoareaLiberal,andtheenemyofalltheirgovernments,youpleaseto
markmywords—thedaywillcomeinGrünewald,whentheytakeoutthat
yellow-headedskulkofaPrinceandthatdough-facedMessalinaofaPrincess,
march’embackforemostovertheborders,andproclaimtheBaronGondremark
firstPresident.I’veheardthemsayitinaspeech.Iwasatameetingonceat
Brandenau,andtheMittwaldendelegatesspokeupforfifteenthousand.Fifteen
thousand,allbrigaded,andeachmanwithamedalroundhisnecktorallyby.
That’sallGondremark.’
‘Ay,sir,youseewhatitleadsto;wildtalkto-day,andwilderdoingsto-morrow,’
saidtheoldman.‘Forthereisonethingcertain:thatthisGondremarkhasone
footintheCourtbackstairs,andtheotherintheMasons’lodges.Hegives
himselfout,sir,forwhatnowadaystheycallapatriot:amanfromEastPrussia!’
‘Givehimselfout!’criedFritz.‘Heis!Heistolaybyhistitleassoonasthe
Republicisdeclared;Ihearditinaspeech.’
‘LaybyBarontotakeupPresident?’returnedKillian.‘KingLog,KingStork.
Butyou’lllivelongerthanI,andyouwillseethefruitsofit.’
‘Father,’whisperedOttilia,pullingatthespeaker’scoat,‘surelythegentlemanis
ill.’
‘Ibegyourpardon,’criedthefarmer,rewakingtohospitablethoughts;‘canI
offeryouanything?’
‘Ithankyou.Iamveryweary,’answeredOtto.‘Ihavepresumeduponmy
strength.Ifyouwouldshowmetoabed,Ishouldbegrateful.’
‘Ottilia,acandle!’saidtheoldman.‘Indeed,sir,youlookpaley.Alittlecordial
water?No?Thenfollowme,Ibeseechyou,andIwillbringyoutothe
stranger’sbed.Youarenotthefirstbymanywhohassleptwellbelowmyroof,’
continuedtheoldgentleman,mountingthestairsbeforehisguest;‘forgood
food,honestwine,agratefulconscience,andalittlepleasantchatbeforeaman
retires,areworthallthepossetsandapothecary’sdrugs.See,sir,’andherehe
openedadoorandusheredOttointoalittlewhite-washedsleeping-room,‘here
youareinport.Itissmall,butitisairy,andthesheetsarecleanandkeptin


lavender.Thewindow,too,looksoutabovetheriver,andthere’snomusiclikea
littleriver’s.Itplaysthesametune(andthat’sthefavourite)overandover
again,andyetdoesnotwearyofitlikemenfiddlers.Ittakesthemindoutof
doors:andthoughweshouldbegratefulforgoodhouses,thereis,afterall,no
houselikeGod’sout-of-doors.Andlastly,sir,itquietsamandownlikesaying
hisprayers.Sohere,sir,Itakemykindleaveofyouuntilto-morrow;anditis
myprayerfulwishthatyoumayslumberlikeaprince.’
Andtheoldman,withthetwentiethcourteousinclination,lefthisguestalone.

CHAPTERIII—INWHICHTHEPRINCECOMFORTSAGE
ANDBEAUTYANDDELIVERSALECTUREON
DISCRETIONINLOVE
ThePrincewasearlyabroad:inthetimeofthefirstchorusofbirds,ofthepure
andquietair,oftheslantingsunlightandthemile-longshadows.Toonewho
hadpassedamiserablenight,thefreshnessofthathourwastonicandreviving;
tostealamarchuponhisslumberingfellows,tobetheAdamofthecomingday,
composedandfortifiedhisspirits;andthePrince,breathingdeepandpausingas
hewent,walkedinthewetfieldsbesidehisshadow,andwasglad.
Atrellisedpathleddownintothevalleyofthebrook,andheturnedtofollowit.
Thestreamwasabreak-neck,boilingHighlandriver.Hardbythefarm,it
leapedalittleprecipiceinathickgrey-mare’stailoftwistedfilaments,andthen
layandworkedandbubbledinalynn.Intothemiddleofthisquakingpoola
rockprotruded,shelvingtoacape;andthitherOttoscrambledandsatdownto
ponder.
Soonthesunstruckthroughthescreenofbranchesandthinearlyleavesthat
madeahangingbowerabovethefall;andthegoldenlightsandflittingshadows
felluponandmarbledthesurfaceofthatsoseethingpot;andraysplungeddeep
amongtheturningwaters;andaspark,asbrightasadiamond,lituponthe
swayingeddy.ItbegantogrowwarmwhereOttolingered,warmandheady;the
lightsswam,weavingtheirmazeacrosstheshakenpool;ontheimpendingrock,
reflectionsdancedlikebutterflies;andtheairwasfannedbythewaterfallasbya
swingingcurtain.
Otto,whowaswearywithtossingandbesetwithhorridphantomsofremorse
andjealousy,instantlyfelldeadinlovewiththatsun-chequered,echoingcorner.
Holdinghisfeet,hestaredoutofadrowsytrance,wondering,admiring,musing,


losinghiswayamonguncertainthoughts.Thereisnothingthatsoapesthe
externalbearingoffreewillasthatunconsciousbustle,obscurelyfollowing
liquidlaws,withwhicharivercontendsamongobstructions.Itseemsthevery
playofmananddestiny,andasOttoporedontheserecurrentchanges,hegrew,
byequalsteps,thesleepierandthemoreprofound.EddyandPrincewerealike
jostledintheirpurpose,alikeanchoredbyintangibleinfluencesinonecornerof
theworld.EddyandPrincewerealikeuseless,starklyuseless,inthecosmology
ofmen.EddyandPrince—PrinceandEddy.
Itisprobablehehadbeensomewhileasleepwhenavoicerecalledhimfrom
oblivion.‘Sir,’itwassaying;andlookinground,hesawMr.Killian’sdaughter,
terrifiedbyherboldnessandmakingbashfulsignalsfromtheshore.Shewasa
plain,honestlass,healthyandhappyandgood,andwiththatsortofbeautythat
comesofhappinessandhealth.Butherconfusionlentherforthemomentan
additionalcharm.
‘Good-morning,’saidOtto,risingandmovingtowardsher.‘Iaroseearlyand
wasinadream.’
‘O,sir!’shecried,‘Iwishtobegofyoutosparemyfather;forIassureyour
Highness,ifhehadknownwhoyouwas,hewouldhavebittenhistongueout
sooner.AndFritz,too—howhewenton!ButIhadanotion;andthismorningI
wentstraightdownintothestable,andtherewasyourHighness’scrownupon
thestirrup-irons!But,O,sir,Imadecertainyouwouldsparethem;forthey
wereasinnocentaslambs.’
‘Mydear,’saidOtto,bothamusedandgratified,‘youdonotunderstand.ItisI
whoaminthewrong;forIhadnobusinesstoconcealmynameandleadon
thesegentlemantospeakofme.AnditisIwhohavetobegofyouthatyouwill
keepmysecretandnotbetraythediscourtesyofwhichIwasguilty.Asforany
fearofme,yourfriendsaresafeinGerolstein;andeveninmyownterritory,you
mustbewellawareIhavenopower.’
‘O,sir,’shesaid,curtsying,‘Iwouldnotsaythat:thehuntsmenwouldalldiefor
you.’
‘HappyPrince!’saidOtto.‘Butalthoughyouaretoocourteoustoavowthe
knowledge,youhavehadmanyopportunitiesoflearningthatIamavainshow.
Onlylastnightwehearditveryclearlystated.Youseetheshadowflittingon
thishardrock?PrinceOtto,Iamafraid,isbutthemovingshadow,andthename
oftherockisGondremark.Ah!ifyourfriendshadfallenfoulofGondremark!


Buthappilytheyoungerofthetwoadmireshim.Andasfortheoldgentleman
yourfather,heisawisemanandanexcellenttalker,andIwouldtakealong
wagerheishonest.’
‘O,forhonest,yourHighness,thatheis!’exclaimedthegirl.‘AndFritzisas
honestashe.Andasforalltheysaid,itwasjusttalkandnonsense.When
countryfolkgetgossiping,theygoon,Idoassureyou,forthefun;theydon’tas
muchasthinkofwhattheysay.Ifyouwenttothenextfarm,it’smybeliefyou
wouldhearasmuchagainstmyfather.’
‘Nay,nay,’saidOtto,‘thereyougotoofast.ForallthatwassaidagainstPrince
Otto—’
‘O,itwasshameful!’criedthegirl.
‘Notshameful—true,’returnedOtto.‘O,yes—true.Iamalltheysaidofme—
allthatandworse.’
‘Inever!’cried‘Ottilia.‘Isthathowyoudo?Well,youwouldneverbea
soldier.Nowifanyoneaccusesme,Igetupandgiveitthem.O,Idefend
myself.Iwouldn’ttakeafaultatanotherperson’shands,no,notifIhaditon
myforehead.Andthat’swhatyoumustdo,ifyoumeantoliveitout.But,
indeed,Ineverheardsuchnonsense.Ishouldthinkyouwasashamedof
yourself!You’rebald,then,Isuppose?’
‘Ono,’saidOtto,fairlylaughing.‘ThereIacquitmyself:notbald!’
‘Well,andgood?’pursuedthegirl.‘Comenow,youknowyouaregood,andI’ll
makeyousayso...YourHighness,Ibegyourhumblepardon.Butthere’sno
disrespectintended.Andanyhow,youknowyouare.’
‘Why,now,whatamItosay?’repliedOtto.‘Youareacook,andexcellently
wellyoudoit;Iembracethechanceofthankingyoufortheragout.Wellnow,
haveyounotseengoodfoodsobedevilledbyunskilfulcookerythatnoone
couldbebroughttoeatthepudding?Thatisme,mydear.Iamfullofgood
ingredients,butthedishisworthless.Iam—Igiveityouinoneword—sugarin
thesalad.’
‘Well,Idon’tcare,you’regood,’reiteratedOttilia,alittleflushedbyhaving
failedtounderstand.
‘Iwilltellyouonething,’repliedOtto:‘Youare!’


‘Ah,well,that’swhattheyallsaidofyou,’moralisedthegirl;‘suchatongueto
comeround—suchaflatteringtongue!’
‘O,youforget,Iamamanofmiddleage,’thePrincechuckled.
‘Well,tospeaktoyou,Ishouldthinkyouwasaboy;andPrinceornoPrince,if
youcameworryingwhereIwascooking,Iwouldpinanapkintoyourtails....
And,OLord,IdeclareIhopeyourHighnesswillforgiveme,’thegirladded.‘I
can’tkeepitinmymind.’
‘NomorecanI,’criedOtto.‘Thatisjustwhattheycomplainof!’
Theymadealoverly-lookingcouple;onlytheheavypouringofthathorse-tailof
watermadethemraisetheirvoicesabovelovers’pitch.Buttoajealous
onlookerfromabove,theirmirthandcloseproximitymighteasilygiveumbrage;
andaroughvoiceoutofatuftofbramblesbegancallingonOttiliabyname.
Shechangedcolouratthat.‘ItisFritz,’shesaid.‘Imustgo.’
‘Go,mydear,andIneednotbidyougoinpeace,forIthinkyouhave
discoveredthatIamnotformidableatclosequarters,’saidthePrince,andmade
herafinegestureofdismissal.
SoOttiliaskippedupthebank,anddisappearedintothethicket,stoppingonce
forasingleblushingbob—blushing,becauseshehadintheintervaloncemore
forgottenandrememberedthestranger’squality.
Ottoreturnedtohisrockpromontory;buthishumourhadinthemeantime
changed.Thesunnowshonemorefairlyonthepool;andoveritsbrown,
wellingsurface,theblueofheavenandthegoldengreenofthespringfoliage
dancedinfleetingarabesque.Theeddieslaughedandbrightenedwithessential
colour.AndthebeautyofthedellbegantorankleinthePrince’smind;itwasso
neartohisownborders,yetwithout.Hehadneverhadmuchofthejoyof
possessorshipinanyofthethousandandonebeautifulandcuriousthingsthat
werehis;andnowhewasconsciousofenvyforwhatwasanother’s.Itwas,
indeed,asmiling,dilettantesortofenvy;butyetthereitwas:thepassionof
Ahabforthevineyard,doneinlittle;andhewasrelievedwhenMr.Killian
appeareduponthescene.
‘Ihope,sir,thatyouhavesleptwellundermyplainroof,’saidtheoldfarmer.
‘Iamadmiringthissweetspotthatyouareprivilegedtodwellin,’repliedOtto,
evadingtheinquiry.


‘Itisrustic,’returnedMr.Gottesheim,lookingaroundhimwithcomplacency,‘a
veryrusticcorner;andsomeofthelandtothewestismostexcellentfatland,
excellentdeepsoil.Youshouldseemywheatintheten-acrefield.Thereisnot
afarminGrünewald,no,normanyinGerolstein,tomatchtheRiverFarm.
Somesixty—IkeepthinkingwhenIsow—somesixty,andsomeseventy,and
someanhundredfold;andmyownplace,sixscore!Butthat,sir,ispartlythe
farming.’
‘Andthestreamhasfish?’askedOtto.
‘Afish-pond,’saidthefarmer.‘Ay,itisapleasantbit.Itispleasantevenhere,if
onehadtime,withthebrookdrumminginthatblackpool,andthegreenthings
hangingallabouttherocks,and,dearheart,toseetheverypebbles!allturnedto
goldandpreciousstones!Butyouhavecometothattimeoflife,sir,when,if
youwillexcuseme,youmustlooktohavetherheumatismsetin.Thirtytoforty
is,asonemaysay,theirseed-time.Andthisisadampcoldcornerfortheearly
morningandanemptystomach.IfImighthumblyadviseyou,sir,Iwouldbe
moving.’
‘Withallmyheart,’saidOttogravely.‘Andsoyouhavelivedyourlifehere?’
headded,astheyturnedtogo.
‘HereIwasborn,’repliedthefarmer,‘andhereIwishIcouldsayIwastodie.
Butfortune,sir,fortuneturnsthewheel.Theysaysheisblind,butwewillhope
sheonlyseesalittlefartheron.MygrandfatherandmyfatherandI,wehaveall
tilledtheseacres,myfurrowfollowingtheirs.Allthethreenamesareonthe
gardenbench,twoKilliansandoneJohann.Yes,sir,goodmenhaveprepared
themselvesforthegreatchangeinmyoldgarden.WelldoImindmyfather,ina
woollennight-cap,thegoodsoul,goingroundandroundtoseethelastofit.
‘Killian,’saidhe,‘doyouseethesmokeofmytobacco?Why,’saidhe,‘thatis
man’slife.’Itwashislastpipe,andIbelieveheknewit;anditwasastrange
thing,withoutdoubt,toleavethetreesthathehadplanted,andthesonthathe
hadbegotten,ay,sir,andeventheoldpipewiththeTurk’sheadthathehad
smokedsincehewasaladandwenta-courting.Butherewehavenocontinuing
city;andasfortheeternal,it’sacomfortablethoughtthatwehaveothermerits
thanourown.Andyetyouwouldhardlythinkhowsoreitgoesagainstthegrain
withme,todieinastrangebed.’
‘Andmustyoudoso?Forwhatreason?’Ottoasked.
‘Thereason?Theplaceistobesold;threethousandcrowns,’repliedMr.


Gottesheim.‘Haditbeenathirdofthat,Imaysaywithoutboastingthat,what
withmycreditandmysavings,Icouldhavemetthesum.Butatthreethousand,
unlessIhavesingulargoodfortuneandthenewproprietorcontinuesmein
office,thereisnothingleftmebuttobudge.’
Otto’sfancyfortheplaceredoubledatthenews,andbecamejoinedwithother
feelings.Ifallheheardweretrue,Grünewaldwasgrowingveryhotfora
sovereignPrince;itmightbewelltohavearefuge;andifso,whatmore
delightfulhermitagecouldmanimagine?Mr.Gottesheim,besides,hadtouched
hissympathies.Everymanlovesinhissoultoplaythepartofthestagedeity.
Andtostepdowntotheaidoftheoldfarmer,whohadsoroughlyhandledhim
intalk,wastheidealofaFairRevenge.Otto’sthoughtsbrightenedatthe
prospect,andhebegantoregardhimselfwitharenewedrespect.
‘Icanfindyou,Ibelieve,apurchaser,’hesaid,‘andonewhowouldcontinueto
availhimselfofyourskill.’
‘Canyou,sir,indeed?’saidtheoldman.‘Well,Ishallbeheartilyobliged;forI
begintofindamanmaypractiseresignationallhisdays,ashetakesphysic,and
notcometolikeitintheend.’
‘Ifyouwillhavethepapersdrawn,youmayevenburthenthepurchasewith
yourinterest,’saidOtto.‘Letitbeassuredtoyouthroughlife.’
‘Yourfriend,sir,’insinuatedKillian,‘wouldnot,perhaps,caretomakethe
interestreversible?Fritzisagoodlad.’
‘Fritzisyoung,’saidthePrincedryly;‘hemustearnconsideration,notinherit.’
‘Hehaslongworkedupontheplace,sir,’insistedMr.Gottesheim;‘andatmy
greatage,forIamseventy-eightcomeharvest,itwouldbeatroublesome
thoughttotheproprietorhowtofillmyshoes.Itwouldbeacaresparedto
assureyourselfofFritz.AndIbelievehemightbetemptedbyapermanency.’
‘Theyoungmanhasunsettledviews,’returnedOtto.
‘Possiblythepurchaser—’beganKillian.
AlittlespotofangerburnedinOtto’scheek.‘Iamthepurchaser,’hesaid.
‘ItwaswhatImighthaveguessed,’repliedthefarmer,bowingwithanaged,
obsequiousdignity.‘Youhavemadeanoldmanveryhappy;andImaysay,


indeed,thatIhaveentertainedanangelunawares.Sir,thegreatpeopleofthis
world—andbythatImeanthosewhoaregreatinstation—iftheyhadonly
heartslikeyours,howtheywouldmakethefiresburnandthepoorsing!’
‘Iwouldnotjudgethemhardly,sir,’saidOtto.‘Weallhaveourfrailties.’
‘Truly,sir,’saidMr.Gottesheim,withunction.‘Andbywhatname,sir,amIto
addressmygenerouslandlord?’
ThedoublerecollectionofanEnglishtraveller,whomhehadreceivedtheweek
beforeatcourt,andofanoldEnglishroguecalledTransome,whomhehad
knowninyouth,camepertinentlytothePrince’shelp.‘Transome,’heanswered,
‘ismyname.IamanEnglishtraveller.Itis,to-day,Tuesday.OnThursday,
beforenoon,themoneyshallbeready.Letusmeet,ifyouplease,in
Mittwalden,atthe“MorningStar.”’
‘Iam,inallthingslawful,yourservanttocommand,’repliedthefarmer.‘An
Englishman!Youareagreatraceoftravellers.Andhasyourlordshipsome
experienceofland?’
‘Ihavehadsomeinterestofthekindbefore,’returnedthePrince;‘notin
Gerolstein,indeed.Butfortune,asyousay,turnsthewheel,andIdesiretobe
beforehandwithherrevolutions.’
‘Veryright,sir,Iamsure,’saidMr.Killian.
Theyhadbeenstrollingwithdeliberation;buttheywerenowdrawingneartothe
farmhouse,mountingbythetrellisedpathwaytothelevelofthemeadow.A
littlebeforethem,thesoundofvoiceshadbeensomewhileaudible,andnow
grewlouderandmoredistinctwitheverystepoftheiradvance.Presently,when
theyemergeduponthetopofthebank,theybeheldFritzandOttiliasomeway
off;he,veryblackandbloodshot,emphasisinghishoarsespeechwiththe
smackingofhisfistagainsthispalm;she,standingalittlewayoffinblowsy,
volubledistress.
‘Dearme!’saidMr.Gottesheim,andmadeasifhewouldturnaside.
ButOttowentstraighttowardsthelovers,inwhosedissensionhebelieved
himselftohaveashare.And,indeed,assoonashehadseenthePrince,Fritz
hadstoodtragic,asifawaitinganddefyinghisapproach.
‘O,hereyouare!’hecried,assoonastheywerenearenoughforeasyspeech.


‘Youareamanatleast,andmustreply.Whatwereyouafter?Whywereyou
twoskulkinginthebush?God!’hebrokeout,turningagainuponOttilia,‘to
thinkthatIshouldwastemyheartonyou!’
‘Ibegyourpardon,’Ottocutin.‘Youwereaddressingme.Invirtueofwhat
circumstanceamItorenderyouanaccountofthisyounglady’sconduct?Are
youherfather?herbrother?herhusband?’
‘O,sir,youknowaswellasI,’returnedthepeasant.‘Wekeepcompany,sheand
I.Iloveher,andsheisbywayoflovingme;butallshallbeabove-board,I
wouldhavehertoknow.Ihaveagoodprideofmyown.’
‘Why,IperceiveImustexplaintoyouwhatloveis,’saidOtto.‘Itsmeasureis
kindness.Itisverypossiblethatyouareproud;butshe,too,mayhavesome
self-esteem;Idonotspeakformyself.Andperhaps,ifyourowndoingswereso
curiouslyexamined,youmightfinditinconvenienttoreply.’
‘Theseareallset-offs,’saidtheyoungman.‘Youknowverywellthatamanisa
man,andawomanonlyawoman.Thatholdsgoodallover,upanddown.Iask
youaquestion,Iaskitagain,andhereIstand.’Hedrewamarkandtoedit.
‘Whenyouhavestudiedliberaldoctrinessomewhatdeeper,’saidthePrince,
‘youwillperhapschangeyournote.Youareamanoffalseweightsand
measures,myyoungfriend.Youhaveonescaleforwomen,anotherformen;
oneforprinces,andoneforfarmer-folk.Ontheprincewhoneglectshiswife
youcanbemostsevere.Butwhatoftheloverwhoinsultshismistress?Youuse
thenameoflove.Ishouldthinkthisladymightveryfairlyasktobedelivered
fromloveofsuchanature.ForifI,astranger,hadbeenone-tenthpartsogross
andsodiscourteous,youwouldmostrighteouslyhavebrokemyhead.Itwould
havebeeninyourpart,aslover,toprotectherfromsuchinsolence.Protecther
first,then,fromyourself.’
‘Ay,’quothMr.Gottesheim,whohadbeenlookingonwithhishandsbehindhis
talloldback,‘ay,that’sScripturetruth.’
Fritzwasstaggered,notonlybythePrince’simperturbablesuperiorityof
manner,butbyaglimmeringconsciousnessthathehimselfwasinthewrong.
Theappealtoliberaldoctrineshad,besides,unmannedhim.
‘Well,’saidhe,‘ifIwasrude,I’llowntoit.Imeantnoill,anddidnothingout
ofmyjustrights;butIamabovealltheseoldvulgarnotionstoo;andifIspoke


sharp,I’llaskherpardon.’
‘Freelygranted,Fritz,’saidOttilia.
‘Butallthisdoesn’tanswerme,’criedFritz.‘Iaskwhatyoutwospokeabout.
Shesaysshepromisednottotell;well,then,Imeantoknow.Civilityiscivility,
butI’llbenoman’sgull.Ihavearighttocommonjustice,ifIdokeep
company!’
‘IfyouwillaskMr.Gottesheim,’repliedOtto,‘youwillfindIhavenotspentmy
hoursinidleness.Ihave,sinceIarosethismorning,agreedtobuythefarm.So
farIwillgotosatisfyacuriositywhichIcondemn.’
‘O,well,iftherewasbusiness,that’sanothermatter,’returnedFritz.‘Thoughit
beatsmewhyyoucouldnottell.But,ofcourse,ifthegentlemanistobuythe
farm,Isupposetherewouldnaturallybeanend.’
‘Tobesure,’saidMr.Gottesheim,withastrongaccentofconviction.
ButOttiliawasmuchbraver.‘Therenow!’shecriedintriumph.‘WhatdidItell
you?ItoldyouIwasfightingyourbattles.Nowyousee!Thinkshameofyour
suspicioustemper!Youshouldgodownuponyourbendedkneesbothtothat
gentlemanandme.’

CHAPTERIV—INWHICHTHEPRINCECOLLECTS
OPINIONSBYTHEWAY
AlittlebeforenoonOtto,byatriumphofmanoeuvring,effectedhisescape.He
wasquitinthiswayoftheponderousgratitudeofMr.Killian,andofthe
confidentialgratitudeofpoorOttilia;butofFritzhewasnotquitsoreadily.
Thatyoungpolitician,brimmingwithmysteriousglances,offeredtolendhis
convoyasfarastothehigh-road;andOtto,infearofsomeresiduaryjealousy
andforthegirl’ssake,hadnotthecouragetogainsayhim;butheregardedhis
companionwithuneasyglances,anddevoutlywishedthebusinessatanend.
ForsometimeFritzwalkedbythemareinsilence;andtheyhadalready
traversedmorethanhalftheproposeddistancewhen,withsomethingofablush,
helookedupandopenedfire.
‘Areyounot,’heasked,‘whattheycallasocialist?’
‘Why,no,’returnedOtto,‘notpreciselywhattheycallso.Whydoyouask?’


‘Iwilltellyouwhy,’saidtheyoungman.‘Isawfromthefirstthatyouwerea
redprogressional,andnothingbutthefearofoldKilliankeptyouback.And
there,sir,youwereright:oldmenarealwayscowards.Butnowadays,yousee,
therearesomanygroups:youcannevertellhowfarthelikeliestkindofman
maybepreparedtogo;andIwasneversureyouwereoneofthestrongthinkers,
tillyouhintedaboutwomenandfreelove.’
‘Indeed,’criedOtto,‘Ineversaidawordofsuchathing.’
‘Notyou!’criedFritz.‘Neverawordtocompromise!Youwassowingseed:
ground-bait,ourpresidentcallsit.Butit’shardtodeceiveme,forIknowallthe
agitatorsandtheirways,andallthedoctrines;andbetweenyouandme,’
loweringhisvoice,‘Iammyselfaffiliated.Oyes,Iamasecretsocietyman,and
hereismymedal.’Anddrawingoutagreenribbonthatheworeabouthisneck,
heheldup,forOtto’sinspection,apewtermedalbearingtheimprintofa
PhoenixandthelegendLibertas.‘Andsonowyouseeyoumaytrustme,’added
Fritz,‘Iamnoneofyouralehousetalkers;Iamaconvincedrevolutionary.’And
helookedmeltinglyuponOtto.
‘Isee,’repliedthePrince;‘thatisverygratifying.Well,sir,thegreatthingfor
thegoodofone’scountryis,firstofall,tobeagoodman.Allspringsfrom
there.Formypart,althoughyouarerightinthinkingthatIhavetodowith
politics,Iamunfitbyintellectandtemperforaleadingrôle.Iwasintended,I
fear,forasubaltern.Yetwehaveallsomethingtocommand,Mr.Fritz,ifitbe
onlyourowntemper;andamanabouttomarrymustlookcloselytohimself.
Thehusband’s,liketheprince’s,isaveryartificialstanding;anditishardtobe
kindineither.Doyoufollowthat?’
‘Oyes,Ifollowthat,’repliedtheyoungman,sadlychop-fallenoverthenature
oftheinformationhehadelicited;andthenbrighteningup:‘Isit,’heventured,
‘isitforanarsenalthatyouhaveboughtthefarm?’
‘We’llseeaboutthat,’thePrinceanswered,laughing.‘Youmustnotbetoo
zealous.Andinthemeantime,ifIwereyou,Iwouldsaynothingonthe
subject.’
‘O,trustme,sir,forthat,’criedFritz,ashepocketedacrown.‘Andyou’velet
nothingout;forIsuspected—ImightsayIknewit—fromthefirst.Andmind
you,whenaguideisrequired,’headded,‘Iknowalltheforestpaths.’
Ottorodeaway,chuckling.ThistalkwithFritzhadvastlyentertainedhim;nor


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