But the Prince was going through with what was before him as became a man moved by duty, however unpleasant the duty might be; he evidently considered it proper to declare his motives, in order to exhort the man to strive after things still more noble. He seemed to himself at this moment a kind of priest, who, concealed from the whole world in the inner sanctuary of the temple, is consecrating a novice; he was much moved himself. The first chamberlain had not been wrong; the Prince had returned to the palace some time before the hour appointed, but he had been quietly preparing himself beforehand for this solemn ceremony.
Since Herr von Endlich's elevation to the nobility, the Prince had been in the habit of using certain set phrases; no one knew who had originated them, but he often repeated, like a lesson learned by heart, the words—"Yes, yes, it is an established rule, an excellent rule, that the monumental should not be treated lightly. One should not carve in stone, or cast in bronze, a momentary jest or whim, to look awkward and out of place as time goes on; such things are only fit to enliven the passing moment. The transient should not be transformed into an enduring monument."
He did not show distinctly what was in his mind, but it was easy to see what he meant. He had not done well in making a pun with the name he had conferred upon Herr Ton Endlich, for what is more monumental than elevation to rank? The present occasion, therefore, he wished to make a thoroughly solemn one.
Patiently, and like a child bending forward to receive confirmation, Sonnenkamp bowed his head. Several times the Prince stretched out one hand, several times the other, several times both together, while he was speaking of the blessings which men strongly armed with the knowledge of the higher duties spread around them. Sonnenkamp expected every minute that he would lay both hands upon his head and bless him, and although the Prince was younger than himself, he would have received the blessing with modesty and humility, for this man had been consecrated by the custom of ages for the dispensation of honor.
At this moment Sonnenkamp tried to be right monarchically inclined; if it had been demanded of him, he would, with every prescribed formula, have solemnly foresworn republic, constitution, and whatever was firmly fixed by the power of law.
In the midst of his remarks the Prince took up a roll, covered with blue velvet, that was lying on his table; he took off the covering and drew out a parchment roll that crackled and rustled, and bore a broad glistening seal.
Sonnenkamp took off his right-hand glove; now comes the moment when he must take the oath and receive the parchment that is to make him a new man. He was ready to be made a new man; he tried to be deeply affected, and sought for the only thing in the world that could really affect him deeply and make him tremble. And now in the middle of the Prince's cabinet he saw before him a church-yard covered with snow in a Polish village, and there was his mother's grave; he did not hear what the Prince was saying while he held the parchment in his hand, but his words were undoubtedly very moving.
But now, what does that mean? the Prince laid the parchment down again on the table, and, sitting down, said:—
"I am glad to see, in your eyes, how profoundly you feel this moment. Pray be seated." Sonnenkamp sat down, and the Prince continued:—
"Let us discuss one more subject, in a quiet way. You have held many slaves, have you any still?"