THE SHAH OF PERSIA FALLS IN LOVE WITH ME
The "animal" and his show of diamonds and rubies—Overcome by love he treats me like a lady of the harem—On the defensive—The King of kings an ill-behaved brute—Eats like a pig and affronts Queen—-Wiped off greasy hands on my state robe—When ten thousand gouged-out eyes carpeted his throne—Offers of jewels—"Does he take me for a ballet girl?"—The Shah almost compromises me—King, alarmed, abruptly ends dinner—I receive presents from him.
Dresden, November 20, 1894.
Lover No. two. Very much in earnest, like the first, but I—extremely distant this time, though I accepted some emeralds and sapphires as big as dove's eggs. The Shah of Persia is the happy-unhappy man.
The King and all the Princes went to the railway station to receive him. The Queen and Princesses, our entourage behind us, assembled in the throne room to do honor to the "animal." To designate him otherwise would be callow flattery.
But his diamonds and rubies fairly dazzled us. Nothing like it in Europe, and our gala uniforms, compared with his, like stage tiaras to the Russian Crown jewels!
Though he had eyes for me only, I didn't like him a bit. He is a little fellow, unsecure on his pins. And like the Balkan princeling I met in Vienna, looks as though there was a strain of Jewish blood in his veins.
Like a true Oriental potentate, he wasted not a minute's time on the Queen and my sisters-in-law, but began making love to me as soon as he entered. The King had to take him by the arm to remind him that his first greetings were due to her Majesty. Poor Carola! Her face looked like parchment, much interlined, and the point of her nose was as conspicuous as usual.
There's nothing elegant about this "King of kings," and his French, like his manners, is atrocious. He addressed a few set phrases to the Queen, then attacked me—"attacked" is the right word. If I hadn't been on the defensive, I think he would have handled my charms as unceremoniously as Frederick Augustus when in his cups. As it was I escaped but by the length of an eye-lash.
State dinner at five. I never saw such an ill-behaved brute, yet he intended to be most agreeable. We are very pious at this court, but on occasions like this even an old woman like the Queen is obliged to denude herself like a wet-nurse on duty.
His Majesty had the Queen on one side; me on the left. The King of Saxony was opposite.
After we sat down the Shah examined Queen Carola from the point of her chin to the edge of her desolate corsage and had the effrontery to express disapproval in all but words. Then he turned to me. His gaze became admiring. He was evidently delighted with his discoveries and, true despot that he is, turned his back on the Queen, while paying extravagant court to my charms.
The King, the whole vast assembly, the surrounding splendor were lost on this mutton-eater of a barbarian. He saw only me, m-e, ME, and I'm sure would have consigned all the rest to some unspeakable Oriental death for five minutes' tête-à-tête with Louise.
"You are neglecting Her Majesty," I whispered to him over and over again. This seemed to enrage him, but at last he turned to the Queen, expecting her to begin a conversation with him. Of course, Her Majesty thought he would take the initiative, which led to mutual staring, the Shah's eyes growing wickeder every second. Then he began to devote himself to the food and, be sure, there was small pleasure in watching him. He fed more like a dog than a human being and actually had the effrontery to wipe his sauce-spattered hands in the lap of my state robe.
Then, before his mouth was empty, he began talking again.
"Which of the princes is your husband?"
I singled out Frederick Augustus. "He isn't a beauty by any means," he said, after examining him like a horse for sale.
The next second his eyes were wandering over my body; I felt as if I was being disrobed.
"You will attend the opera?"
"I'll have the honor."
"I will send you a little present after dinner," he said. "If you wear it tonight, I will regard that as a sign of hope." The beast affected a sentimentality to which he must be a stranger.
I recalled that he was the monster who carpeted the steps of his throne with the gouged-out eyes of ten thousand enemies of his régime when he was crowned. On twenty-thousand human eyes he trod with naked feet as he acclaimed himself "King of kings" and the "true son of God." And Juggernaut was in love with me!
I was speechless. Did he take me for a dancing girl? I narrowed my shoulders and gave him a look of disdain. House Marshal Baron Carlowitz, standing behind the King's chair, took in the situation and whispered to King Albert.
The King immediately rose from table and the state dinner came to an abrupt end.
An hour later, while I was dressing for the theatre, a big jewel box was handed in. "From the Shah."
Despite my disgust with the fellow, I opened it in feverish haste. There was a bracelet set with rubies, sapphires and emeralds of fabulous size.