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Updated: June 9, 2025
Bielfeld suddenly ceased reading, and looked toward the window. "Why do you not read on?" said the princess. "Excuse me, I thought I saw a horse's head on the bridge!" Forthwith, as if upon a given signal, they all flew to the windows; the princess herself, in the general commotion, hastened to one. Yes! Between the trees something was seen moving. There it is coming on the bridge now!
Bielfeld is awakened by a loud knocking; he springs hastily out of bed and opens the door to his friend Knobelsdorf. "Up, up, my friend," exclaims the latter. "Dress quickly. We must go down and congratulate the queen; we must be ready to accompany her immediately to Berlin. Frederick William is dead, and we will now reign in Prussia."
Favor, friendly intimacy, it is visible from the first, avails nothing with this young King; beyond and before all things he will have his work done, and looks out exclusively for the man ablest to do it. Hence Bielfeld goes to Hanover, to grin out euphuisms, and make graceful courtbows to our sublime little Uncle there.
Even the face of my little Louise von Schwerin is clouded, and the countenance of my good Countess Katsch no longer wears its pleasant smile. Well, what is it? I must know. Baron Bielfeld, I appoint you speaker of this discontented community. Speak, sir."
In passing the table at which Count Wartensleben, Bielfeld, and several ladies were playing, he stealthily showed them a letter with a black seal, which he was about to deliver to the princess. "The king is then dead!" murmured they, hastily throwing their cards on the table; the counters fell together, but they looked at them in disdain.
But if your highness would allow us to ask a favor, it would be that our exalted mistress would condescend to receive us either in the garden saloon or music room, and not in your private apartments; for these apartments, beautiful and magnificent as they are, have one great, one terrible defect." "Well," said the princess, as Bielfeld concluded, "I am curious to know what this defect is.
What cared they for a few lost pennies, now that their prince had become king? Count Wartensleben arose and said in a solemn voice: "I will be the first to greet the princess as queen, and I will exert every effort to utter the word 'majesty' in a full, resounding tone." "I will follow you," said Bielfeld, solemnly.
In this room sat the two queens, glittering with gems, for it was no longer necessary for Sophia Dorothea to conceal her jewels; without fear she could now appear before her court in her magnificent diamonds; and Elizabeth Christine, who knew well that her husband loved to see his queen appear in a magnificence befitting her dignity on festive occasions, had adorned herself with the exquisite jewelry which excited the admiration of the entire court, and which Baron Bielfeld declared to be a perfect miracle of beauty.
He is a busy man; and walks boldly into his grand enterprise of "making men happy," to the admiration of Voltaire and an enlightened public far and near. Which is but a simple, mostly formal service; yet perhaps what Bielfeld is best equal to.
At this announcement they all broke out in uproarious laughter. "Let us confess," said Bielfeld, "that we have played to-day a rare comedy a farce which Moliere might have written, and which must bear the title of La Journee des Dupes. Now, as we have none of us become distinguished, let us all be joyful and love each other dearly.
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