CHAPTER CXLVI.
THE LAMPOON.
The emperor, with his confidential secretary, had been at work through the entire night. Day had dawned, and still he wrote on, nor seemed to be conscious of the hour. In his restless zeal, he felt no fatigue, no exhaustion, nor yet any excitement, and not until the last document had been read and signed, did he rise from his chair to take a few turns around the room, while Gunther was sorting the papers, and placing them in a portfolio.
"Gunther," said the emperor, "what is the matter? You look pale and suffering."
Gunther raised his head, and smiled. "Nothing, sire, is the matter, but want of rest. A few hours' sleep will restore me"
"Not so, Gunther; you belie yourself when you say so, for never in my life have I seen such an indefatigable worker as you. Ah! you look down, so that I know you are not frank with me. Come, have you no confidence in me?"
"Oh, sire, I have the most unbounded confidence in your goodness; but since you force me to speak, I am uneasy about yourself."
"How so, Gunther?"
"Because, your majesty strides forward in your projects of reform without the least apprehension of the danger that attends such changes. You rush through the flames without ever dreaming that they may some day consume you."
The emperor shrugged his shoulders. "Always the same song—an echo of Lacy and Rosenberg. I have no time to temporize as you would advise me to do. Who knows how long I shall live to carry out my own free will?"
"Certainly, if your majesty works as you have done of late, your chance for life is not very great. You seem to forget that mind is subordinate to matter—not matter to mind—that physical nature must have her rights, and no man can withstand her exactions. Pardon me these bold words, sire, but if I speak at all, I must speak the truth. You have begun a gigantic edifice, and if you die, it must remain forever incomplete."
"For that very reason, I must complete it myself; for, indeed, Gunther, you are right—when I die, I leave no man worthy to succeed to my stupendous undertakings. I shall, therefore, live until I have accomplished them all."
"Then your majesty must work less," exclaimed Gunther, warmly. "You do not believe that in pleading for you, sire, I give one thought to myself, for nothing is too laborious for me when I work for my emperor."
Joseph laid his hand softly upon Gunther's shoulder. "I believe you, Gunther. I esteem you as one of my best friends, and well you know that from you I have no political secrets."
"I would sooner die than betray your majesty, even unwittingly," said
Gunther, looking with his large, honest eyes into the emperor's face.
"I know it, Gunther; but as you enjoy my confidence without reserve, you ought to know that I have too much to do to think of rest. Oh, it would be dreadful for me to die before my structure is complete! Gunther, Gunther, the priests would transform my fairy palace into a gloomy church; and from its towers, in lieu of the noble clock which is to strike the hour of reformation for my people, would frown the cross that is the symbol of the unenlightened past. Oh, let me not hear in my dying moments the crash of the temple I would rear to Truth!"
"Then recreate your mind, sire, with literature or art. It is long since the speaking tones of your violoncello have been heard in the palace."
"Very true, Gunther, but I cannot invite the Muses into my study. A prince has no right to associate with such frivolous ladies, for he is not on earth to pass away time. The King of Prussia heads a royal sect who devote themselves to authorship. The Empress of Russia follows after him with Voltaire in her hand. I cannot emulate their literary greatness. I read to learn, and travel to enlarge my ideas; and I flatter myself that as I encourage men of letters, I do them a greater service than I would, were I to sit at a desk and help them to weave sonnets. [Footnote: The emperor's own words. "Letters of Joseph," p. 67.] So let us eschew Apollo and his light-footed companions; I aim to be nothing but an imperial statesman. But," continued the emperor, frowning, "I get little sympathy from my subjects. Counsellors, nobles, burghers, priests, all heap obstacle upon obstacle in my path, and the work advances slowly. The revenues, too, are inadequate to the state. The financial affairs of the crown are disordered, and it is only by the strictest economy that I am able to sustain the army. The people call me a miser, because Maria Theresa's prodigality of expenditure forces upon me measures of retrenchment, and necessitates unusual expedients for the raising of funds."
"Which unhappily were extorted from convents and shrines."
"Unhappily! HAPPILY, you mean to say. The treasures which were wasted on convent-chapels and shrines, have saved us from bankruptcy; and God will look down with favor upon the sacrifice which dead superstition has made to living love, and will bestow a blessing upon the work of my hands! True, those heroes of darkness, the monks and priests, will cry Anathema! and the earth will be filled with their howls."
"Like that which greeted Alcides, when he stormed the gates of
Tartarus," said Gunther, smiling.
"You are right. The work is worthy of Alcides, but with the blessing of God it shall be done. Little care I for the wail of nuns or the groans of priests; let them shriek and tear their hair, or, if they like it better, let them vent their spleen in lampoons and caricatures. See, Gunther, what a compliment I received yesterday."
And the emperor drew from his escritoire a paper which he unfolded. "Look at this. It takes off one of my great crimes. You know I have deprived the court of the privilege of living in the palace, and I have given them wherewith to find lodgings in the city. Here go the ladies with their bundles under their arms, and the lord high-steward has a broom sweeping after them as they go. This charming individual in the corner with a hunting-whip, is myself. And here is the pith of the joke. 'Rooms to let here. Inquire of the proprietor on the first floor.' [Footnote: Hubner, i., p. 190.] What do you think of it?"
"Abominable! Inconceivable!" ejaculated Gunther. "As unjust as it is stinging."
"It does not sting me. I have a sound hide. When it itches it is cured by scratching. [Footnote: Joseph's own words.] Here is another pasquinade. It was thrown before my horse's feet as I was riding in the park."
"'Joseph Premier, aimable et charmant: Joseph Seconde, scorpion et tyran.'"
"How can your majesty laugh at such unparalleled insolence?" cried the indignant secretary.
"No one can deny that I have stung priests and nuns," said Joseph, laughing, "so they are welcome to roar, since their tongues are the only weapons wherewith they may revenge themselves upon their tyrant. As I have proclaimed freedom of speech and press, you see they take advantage of the privilege."
"Well, if your majesty takes so magnanimous a view of these insulting lampoons," said Gunther, drawing a paper from his pocket, "I must show you one which yesterday was posted on the wall of the Konigskloster."
"So the Konigskloster irritates the servants of the lord, does it?" laughed Joseph. "They cannot forgive me for selling it to the banker Flies, to transfigure into a Jewish palace!—Well, let us see the pasquinade!"
"Sire, my tongue refuses to pronounce the words," replied Gunther, handing it to the emperor.
"Nay, you must accustom your tongue to pronounce them, for we are likely to have many more of the same sort to read. So go on, and speak out boldly."
The emperor threw himself into an arm-chair, and making himself comfortable, prepared to listen.
The lampoon denounced him as the persecutor of the brides of the Lord, and the enemy of the church. It accused him of having converted a holy temple into the abode of sin, that he might gratify his greed for money.
When Gunther had concluded, he cried out impatiently, "This time at least your majesty will show your enemies that forbearance has its limits, and that the liberty of the press shall not degenerate into license."
"By no means. That would look as if I were afraid. I commission you to have the lampoon reprinted and to expose it for sale in the bookstores at six kreutzers a copy, the proceeds to be given to the poor." [Footnote: Historical.]
"Oh that your majesty's enemies were here to sink with shame at your feet, and beg your forgiveness!" cried Gunther.
"Hush," said Joseph. "Were my enemies to hear you, they would liken me to other princes, who make a parade of their good qualities so that flatterers may immortalize them in laudatory dithyrambics.—But the time for chatting and resting has expired," continued Joseph, rising from his chair. "The labors of the day call me. I must go to receive my petitioners, who must be weary with waiting, for I am a quarter of an hour behind the time."