He stopped, feeling slightly dissatisfied with the weakness of his language. He would have liked to crush this calm, self-possessed questioner with a few scathing words—but somehow the words had refused to come.
During this harangue a slightly contemptuous look came on Maximilian’s face. He answered with spirit.
“I do not believe that any one need starve in Franconia. You are speaking unfairly. If I spend money in the ways you talk of, does it not all come back into the pockets of the people? I never heard that it was considered a crime to encourage art, or that a king was forbidden to have his private friends. And when you accuse me of not valuing the lives of men, you forget that during my reign Franconia has been kept from war. None of my subjects have been made to shed one drop of blood for me. I have never even signed a death-warrant.”
“What does that matter? I am not speaking of foreign war. The deadliest war is that which goes on from day to day between rich and poor; and that war you have never lifted a finger to check. The millions you have wasted on palaces—which are of no use to any one but yourself—might have been used for great public works for the benefit of mankind—hospitals, almshouses, bridges, aqueducts to bring the pure water of the hills into the Mannhausen slums. A king has higher duties than encouraging art. It is his duty to be the shepherd of the nation he rules.”
Maximilian listened, this time with an air of interest. He replied in milder and more friendly tones than he had yet used.
“I think I understand you. I see that there is something in what you say. I have been too much in the habit of thinking that the best king was the one who interfered with his subjects least. You will admit, at all events, that I have never tried to play the tyrant. But I see that I might have done something more—such things as you point out. Yet the people have a constitution. Why have their elected representatives not undertaken some of these works?”
Johann found it more and more difficult to reply harshly to this gentle reasoning on the part of the man whom he had come to take vengeance upon. He tried to convince himself that this was mere acting—a mere ruse to gain time, and he spoke again more rudely than before.
“That is right; lay the blame on others. Where is the money for such things to come from, when every penny that can be wrung out of the people is being squandered by you? Besides, these representatives, as you call them, represent only the richer classes. They are as much out of touch with the poor, they have as little sympathy with them, as you. Their turn will come before long; in the mean time we must begin at the head. These excuses come too late. You have had ten years in which to show your good intentions, and now we can wait no longer.”
Maximilian resumed his haughty air.
“I did not mean to make excuses, sir. I thought you were speaking sincerely, and I meant to do the same. But, since you have made up your mind already, this conversation is useless. You had better fire that pistol.”