"Any one, fool!" exclaimed the King--"hear you not the cannon?--Aught which will carry me to my friends without.--Away! Stay not to talk!--Have it here in a moment!"
"Will you not arm, sire?" said an old officer, in a persuasive tone.
"No!" cried Frederic, sternly; "as I am, with my bare breast, will I face them. Speed is the only armour I would use.--But these men will drive me mad.--Where is my charger?--In the name of pity--in the name of Heaven, see some one what they are doing! Men will call me coward--my name will be a by-word. They will say, for centuries to come, that, while his brave soldiers were bleeding before Prague, Frederic of Bohemia shunned the field where his crown was to be lost or won."
"Here comes your royal charger," cried a voice; and, springing forward, the monarch put his foot in the stirrup and vaulted on the horse's back.
"Follow, follow! All that love me follow!" he cried, and without waiting for any one, dashed down at headlong speed towards the gates. The way was long, the streets narrow and steep; but on, on went the unhappy prince till the small triangular space of open ground before the inner ward lay within sight. Then ran up a half-armed guard; and, approaching close to his horse's side, said in a low voice, "They fly, they fly, your Majesty!"
His look, his tone, were ominous; for he spoke as if he were afraid that his words might be heard by any one near; but still Frederic asked with a sinking heart, "Who fly?"
"Our men, sire," answered the soldier.
"Then I go to rally them," cried the King, "or to die with those who stand."
"That might have done an hour ago," said the soldier, bluntly; "but it is now too late."
It is the fate of misfortune to hear hard truths; and this was the first bitter sting of many that Frederic was yet to feel. He stopped not to answer, however, but pushed on past the man, catching a sight at the same time of several of his attendants spurring down after him. The soldiers of the guard-house scarcely saw his approach; for they were all gazing eagerly forth from the outer gate; but, just beyond the drawbridge, he perceived a rude Bohemian bleeding from several wounds, and leaning for support against the masonry.