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Updated: May 25, 2025
"Here!" cried Deesen, with a malicious grin, as he pointed to the king, "and I am his majesty's cabinet-hussar! Forward, postilion! quick, forward!" The postilion whipped his horses, and the carriage dashed by the mayors and senators, who were marching to greet the King of Prussia. They never dreamed that he had just passed mischievously by them.
A great number of the rich aristocrats of the city accompanied them. Madame Blaken had stepped from the house, and was looking curiously at the approaching crowd, and while she and her maids were wondering what this could mean, the two Mr. Zollers entered the carriage, and their servant had mounted the box. "May I speak now?" said Deesen, turning to the king.
The king answered with a silent bow. He who was accustomed to receive the world's approval as his just tribute, was confused and ashamed at the applause of these poor people. The king was right in saying he left his royalty on Prussian soil; he really was embarrassed at this publicity, and was glad when Deesen announced that lunch was prepared for him.
Quick, Le Catt, make your preparations; call the servants, and show them what they have to do. In the mean time, I will make my toilet; I must not appear before the worthy ambassador in such unworthy guise." The king rang hastily, and his valet, Deesen, entered. "Deesen," said he, gayly, "we will imagine ourselves to be again in Sans-Souci, and about to hold a great court.
"I was in my room writing a letter, sire." "Ah, a letter. You were no doubt writing to that beautiful barmaid at the hotel of the Black Raven at Amsterdam, who declined the attentions of the servant of the brothers Zoller." This reference to the journey to Amsterdam showed Deesen that the king was not very angry.
"If your majesty proposes to hold a great court, you cannot possibly wear these breeches!" "Why not? why not?" said the king, fiercely. "Sire," murmured Deesen, "sire, that has happened to them which happened to your majesty at Torgau." "That is to say "said the king, questioningly. "That is to say, they are wounded."
Deesen hurried off, and the king looked smilingly after him for a moment, and was on the point of returning to his reading, when his attention was attracted by the approach of a carriage. "Ah," he murmured anxiously, "I fear that I shall be disturbed again by some cousin, who has come to rob me of my time by hypocritical professions of love." He looked anxiously toward the door.
Perhaps I may find a tailor in one of the neighboring villages; he will work during the night, and early tomorrow every thing will be in order." "It must be done to-day done immediately," cried the king. "In a few hours the injury must be healed, and my apparel fully restored to health." "But, sire," whispered Deesen, "how can that be possible?
"Certainly," said Balby, "the words are, 'majesty' and 'sire." "So they are, friend. I leave these two words on the borders of Prussia; perhaps on our return we may find and resume them. But as long as we are on the soil of Holland there must be no majesty, no sire." "What, then, must I call my king?" "You must call him friend, voila tout." "And I?" asked Deesen, respectfully.
"I am ready, sire," returned Deesen, dipping his pen into the ink. "Write then," commanded the king, as he placed himself immediately in front of Deesen "write, then, first the heading: 'My beloved " Deesen started, and glanced inquiringly at the king. Frederick looked earnestly at him, and repeated, "'My beloved " Deesen uttered a sigh, and wrote. "Have you written that?" asked the king.
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