It looked like some funny joke, for Father Guarini was always most anxious to amuse the Prince; very often his jokes were not very new or very elegant, but he always succeeded in making Frederick laugh.
'You make me anxious to see your prizes,' said Frederick.
'The only condition I would make, is that your Highness does not compete. There is no doubt that nobody here shoots better, but I have not prepared a prize worthy of your royal hand. Consequently--'
The eloquence in his eyes ended the sentence.
Frederick began to shoot first. Being used to a rifle since he was a mere boy, it was true that very few people could compete with him, and directly he took hold of a rifle he became so absorbed in the sport that he paid no attention to anything else.
The targets were so arranged that if the ball struck the centre, a white and green--Saxon colours--little flag sprang out: a yellow and black flag--colours of Dresden--marked the first circle beyond the centre; and a black flag marked the further circles.
When Frederick began to shoot and hit the centre with one ball after another, he was applauded by the whole court. After having shot a great many times, the others shot by turns: Sulkowski, Brühl, the envoys of foreign courts, the old General Bandissin, the Count Wackerbarth-Salmour, the Count Los, the Baron Shonberg, the Count Gersdorf and the rest. Every shot was marked. The Prince seemed to wait impatiently for the distribution of Father Guarini's prizes.
It happened that after counting all the marks, old Bandissin won the first prize. The Prince rose from his chair, gazing after Guarini, who told a lackey to bring out the first prize from the shanty.
Curiosity was at its height. The door opened, and two lackeys in court livery--yellow tail coats with blue facings--brought out a large basket covered with a white cloth.
'General,' Guarini said seriously, 'it is not my fault that you do not receive a prize more suitable to your age, but it so pleased the Fates, and nobody can avoid his destiny.'