The minister was walking, in a melancholy manner, up and down his apartment. The sense of approaching shame, and the certainty of deceived love, had removed from him even his daughter, who latterly had been his only consolation. She was weeping in her chamber, and breaking a heart worthy of a better destiny. The minister’s meditations were interrupted by his wife, who now came to reproach him, and thereby add to his misery. Baron H. presently entered, and coolly demanded the commission, by virtue of which he was to act at the imperial court. As he brought with him the Prince’s order for the same, the minister instantly went into his cabinet to fetch it. In the mean time the lady, who now first heard of the Baron’s intended departure, began to rave at him in the agony of despair. No sooner did the minister return with the Baron’s commission
than a messenger brought him a note from the Prince, in which he was commanded instantly to bring the title-deed into court in order that it might be laid before the envoy of the adverse party. The minister searched the cabinet, emptied all his drawers of their contents, and the cold sweat of death began to trickle down his face. He questioned his secretaries and clerks, his wife also, and his daughter; but to no purpose. At length he was obliged to resolve, fortified as he was by his innocence, to expose himself to the dreadful storm. He hastened to the Prince, who was sitting alone with the Count, informed him of his misfortune, assured him of his innocence, and submitted to his destiny. The Count allowed the Prince to give way to his first indignation at this unwelcome intelligence, when, advancing very coolly, he took the title-deed out of his own pocket, and delivered it to the Prince with a low bow. He then suffered himself to be closely questioned as to the means by which the deed came into his possession; but not until the Prince had threatened him with his displeasure did he
confess, with the greatest apparent reluctance, the process of the affair according to his concerted plan. The minister was dumb; this evidence of his guilt so confused him, that not even the consciousness of his innocence could dispel the darkness which had come over him. The Prince looked furiously upon him, and said: “I ought long since to have expected that you would endeavour to pay the debts of your waste and extravagance by betraying me.” This last reproach in some degree restored the wretched man to his senses; he was about to speak, but the Prince commanded him to be silent, to resign his situation immediately, go home, and not leave his house till sentence should have been pronounced upon him.
The minister accordingly went home, while big tears rolled down his cheeks. Despair forced from the daughter the secret of her shame, and from the wife the avowal of her crime. The strength of his spirit gave way, his senses became confused, and that most frightful of all visitations, insanity, drew a gloomy veil over the remembrance of the past, and, by the ruin of his mind,
healed his heart of the wounds which his nearest and dearest had inflicted upon it.
It was at this moment that the Devil led Faustus into the chamber of the minister, having previously informed him of every particular of the affair. All the fibres of feeling were not yet entirely destroyed, and some few drops of paternal sensibility were yet falling from the eyes of the good old man upon the miserable daughter who was clasping his knees. He smiled once more, played with her dishevelled locks, and smiled yet again. Suddenly his son rushed in, and was about to precipitate himself into his embrace. The father gave him a ghastly look; a wild shriek of madness, which thrilled through the nerves of every one present, burst from his heaving breast; and the poor sufferer became for ever an object of horror and painful compassion.
Faustus raged, and uttered the most frightful curses. He instantly determined to inform the Prince of the whole proceeding, and to unmask the traitors. The Devil smiled, and advised him to go softly to work if he wished thoroughly to know
this Prince whom he boasted of as an impersonation of all human virtues. Faustus hastened to court; and certain, as he imagined, of being able to cause the ruin of the favourite by this discovery, he coolly communicated every thing to the Prince. When he came to the motive which urged the Count to this horrible action, namely, his wish to free himself from his engagements with the daughter of the minister, the countenance of the Prince brightened; he sent for the Count, and embracing him on his entrance, said:
“Happy is the Prince who finds a friend who, out of obedience and the fear of displeasing him, dares commit an action which the common rules of morality condemn. The minister has always acted like a fool. I am glad that we have thus got rid of him. Thou wilt fill his situation much better.”
Faustus stood for a moment petrified with horror. Noble warmth soon, however, began to fire his breast. He depicted in frightful colours the present situation of the minister. He then burst into fury and reproaches, and, without the